Unexpected Happenings
by dorahatesexploring
Summary: Hermione Granger had never imagined herself to live a life of enchanted romantic perfection. But she had at least thought she'd find a good man and settle down with him. Except when that man is unfaithful and a one-night stand with a former enemy turns out to have unexpected consequences, any hope of an easy life seems irrevocably lost.
1. Chapter 1

**Heartbreak**

It was raining torrentially in London, and it seemed that Diagon Alley was about to be swept away, as streams and rivulets of water ran down the cobbled street and pooled around Gringotts, where a makeshift bridge of rough planks had been created by two maintenance wizards to allow shoppers to get to their vaults. The little shopping street was almost empty, the few people who had braved the rain dashing from shop to shop under cloaks and umbrellas.

Florean Fortescue had been expecting to not serve anyone at all that Saturday. Through the winter his shop served coffee and hot bagels as well as ice-cream, but even so he didn't think anyone would be stopping off in the rain. So he was very surprised when from behind his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ he heard the bell of his shop door ring, and he lowered his paper to see Hermione Granger walking into the shop, shaking water out of her thick hair.

Feeling rather bemused, he nevertheless served her order of a bowl of chocolate, raspberry, cherry, and toffee icecream scoops. He'd always liked Hermione Granger, always finding her polite and well-behaved ever since she was a child, and as she seemed upset about something he gave her extra large scoops and added some chopped peanuts and strawberry coulis to the top of the mountain of icecream.

He was now pretending not to watch her as she sat outside alone at a table, seeming not to notice the fact that she was being steadily soaked as the umbrella over the table gave little or no protection from the battering elements. He made a mental note to replace the table umbrellas with better ones at the next opportunity.

He'd soon find out why Hermione Granger was quite so upset as the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ a few days later was emblazoned with the headline " _WEASLEY-GRANGER ENGAGEMENT BROKEN - Has The Celebrity Couple Parted Forever?"_ When he read it he felt sorry for the nice, polite girl, and thought privately how he'd always believed her to be too good for that Weasley boy, whether or not he was a war hero.

After a while he stopped watching her and went into his back room to do some cleaning and categorizing of his stocks, so he didn't notice when a tall, thin young man stopped in the street opposite the shops, and then after a pause threaded his way between the empty tables to sit down at the table where Hermione Granger was sat.

'Hello, Granger.'

Hermione froze, her spoon hovering above the boule of raspberry ice-cream she was about to attack. As if her day could get any worse. Of all the people she wanted to see at this moment, Draco Malfoy was firmly occupying third from the bottom. Right at the bottom was her ex-fiance and the slut of a co-worker she'd found him shagging in the storeroom of Weasley Wizard's Wheezes.

'What are you doing here, Malfoy?' she asked, shoving her spoon into the raspberry icecream.

'Do you mean here as in Diagon Alley, or here as in sat at this table talking to you? Or, if you want to go existential, here as in sentient and occupying a corporeal form? I am the latter one because I have not yet died, I am here in Diagon Alley to get some gold from my bank and buy some books, and I am sat at this table because I noticed the great Hermione Granger was sat alone in the rain in an empty cafe eating ice-cream in October.'

She looked up and scowled at him, but to her surprise she saw none of the usual sneering or malice in his face, but what seemed to be genuine interest and concern. Before she'd quite thought it through, she was spilling out the whole story to him. And when she finished, he didn't laugh or say something cruel, but just the foulest insult for her ex-fiance she'd ever heard. She couldn't help laughing a little it was so rude, and the corners of Malfoy's mouth turned up in a smile when she did. She noticed how much nicer he looked when he smiled.

'By the way Granger, you may be feeling all sad and heartbroken, but surely you haven't sunk so low as to sit under this rubbish umbrella and wantonly allow yourself to get soaked?' said Malfoy. Hermione shrugged, and he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the purple canopy, which doubled in size. She hadn't noticed the rain battering her back, but now it was gone she realised quite how soaked she was, and struggled not to start shivering.

'Thanks,' she said, realising she wasn't being polite. 'So … how have you been?'

Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her. 'You don't need to make small-talk with me, Granger.'

'No, I do want to know,' she said, finding herself feeling genuinely interested. She hadn't heard anything of the Malfoy family for three years, since they'd been acquitted in the aftermath of Voldemort's defeat due to their shift in allegiance and Harry's testimony of Draco being unwilling to carry out Voldemort's orders.

Malfoy shrugged, putting his elbows on the table and intertwining his long fingers. 'Trying to stay out of the public eye, mainly. Blaise and I have set up a couple of charities to help care for orphans of the war and those disabled by it. I've had to do therapy under orders from the Ministry, but that was actually quite good. Went travelling a bit, to South America and Asia. What about you, Granger?'

'You know what I've been up to,' she said, pushing her half-melted icecream around the bowl. Every event of her life in the past three years had been published by the Prophet: when she and Ron were officially dating, when they became engaged, when she received six Outstandings in her N.E. , when she joined the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and, most recently, when she managed to change laws regarding the rights of underprivileged creatures. Harry, Ron and Ginny had been given the same treatment, although Ron seemed to rather enjoy it and often made a show of things that would make the front page of the Prophet, such as proposing to her during a meal at Ambrosia, Wizarding Britain's fanciest restaurant, while a string quartet played and every other patron each produced a red rose to give her. It would have been romantic, if she hadn't noticed the tipped-off Daily Prophet photographers poised with cameras a few tables away.

'I suppose I have. You know, you haven't changed a bit, Granger.'

'Really? Well you seem to have changed a lot.'

'I know. I cringe whenever I think about how I was back in Hogwarts,' he said, grimacing. 'I'm sorry, for all that.'

'It's alright, I'm sure we all would've acted the same,' she replied.

'Thanks. What do you think you're going to do now, then? Break up with Weasley?'

'Already have. I told him to go fuck himself and was gone before he could even extract himself from that little hussy,' said Hermione, and then as she realised something she groaned. 'Oh no! We were living together, I didn't think - where on earth am I going to stay?'

'Surely Potter and Weasley Minimus can take you in, as sickeningly in love as they are?' suggested Malfoy, sounding a little mocking of the couple, although it didn't grate Hermione's nerves as it used to. She shook her head.

'All four of us are living at Grimmauld Place, and I don't want to force myself between Harry and Ron, whatever Ron's done. Anyway in the interim when Harry and Ginny decide how they're reacting to this I don't even want to see Ron, let alone speak to him. I guess I'll just book myself into the Leaky Cauldron or something.'

'Oh bugger that, come stay in my spare room,' said Malfoy. Hermione stared at him. 'Look, Granger, we hated each other at school, sure, but we're adults now. My flat is a few streets away from here and has a spare room. Look, we don't really even have to see each other, you can just use it to sleep in until you sort yourself out. But you don't want to be staying in somewhere like the Leaky Cauldron. It's your choice, of course, but the offer is there.'

She mused it over for a while, and then shrugged. 'Fine, whatever, I'll come stay with you. I suppose it would be pretty awful to have to stay in a pub during the fallout of all this. Thank you, Malfoy. You know if I'm staying temporarily in your flat, it's a bit silly to call each other by our surnames.'

'Agreed … Hermione. Merlin, that's strange.'

'You'll get used to it, Draco.'

He looked around at the street. 'The rain's easing a bit, shall we make a dash for it before the crowds come back? I can show you the way…'

But Hermione had just looked over his shoulder and spotted a familiar gangly ginger man heading their way. Feeling almost frantic, she shook her head and grabbed his forearm. 'No, let's just Apparate there.' Draco shrugged and gripped her forearm with his own hand. A second before they Disapparated, Hermione saw Ron spot them and stop dead, his mouth open in shock. And then there was a jerk and they were gone, compressed horribly for a second before landing heavily. Hermione felt herself slip and unbalance on the wet ground, but then someone caught her by the waist and steadied her. She mumbled her thanks to Draco, reddening a little at how clumsy she must've looked losing balance after a simple Apparation, but he didn't seem to think anything of it.

They seemed to be stood in a bush, and before Hermione could question it Draco was already pushing out through the branches, and so Hermione followed him. They were in a little oval-shaped park, with trees, benches, and a statue of a man on a rearing horse at the centre. All around the park were large Georgian brick houses, four stories high with pillars in front of the doors. The rain had stopped completely now, but the ground was soaked and water pooled everywhere.

'You have one of these?' exclaimed Hermione, looking up at the houses as they walked out the park. She knew houses in this area of London were extortionately expensive.

'Most of these have been turned into flats. I have two floors of Number Fifty-Seven,' explained Draco, leading her over to it. 'Muggles take the other three, so it's very private. Only a select few people know I live here.' Hermione was surprised that he was so blase about living in the same building as Muggles, but didn't comment on it. He pulled out a key from a pocket and opened the front door, ushering her inside. Hermione paused to take in the large, marble-floored hallway with a curving staircase going on upwards, a silver chandelier - unpolished - hanging above her head. A middle-aged woman in a purple coat was stood looking through a pile of letters, and smiled warmly at Draco.

'Hello, Draco dear,' she said, smiling at Hermione as well.

'Hello, Mrs Marcham,' he replied. Touching Hermione lightly on the elbow, he led her to a large door to the left, unlocking that as well and holding it open for her.

She hadn't been sure about what she was expecting from the flat, but she still stared in shock and surprise when she walked in. There was only one word for it, really - tasteful. The ground floor of the flat was all open plan, the front door leading into the sitting room, which was divided from the kitchen-dining room by a set of glass doors that slid apart to create an open archway. With the floor-to-ceiling windows, the rooms were filled with light and warmth. The colours were mostly pale creams and golds, with a few spots of darker colour such as a pair of sofas in a rich burgundy. Although the furnishings were clearly expensive, everything seemed comfortable and inviting.

'Is it just you here?' she asked as Draco shut the door.

'Blaise stays whenever he's in town, but he spends most of his time in Italy or other parts of Europe, sorting out the Zabini businesses and estates. Do you want some tea?'

'Please.'

He went into the kitchen, but she stayed for a moment in the sitting room to take it all in. She was in Draco Malfoy's flat, and he was being _nice_ to her. Things certainly had changed since their Hogwarts school days. She realised that she was soaking wet and her clothes were all clammy and stuck to her skin, so she pointed her wand at herself and cast a quick drying charm. Draco reappeared to ask if she wanted milk or sugar and smirked at the sight of her stood on the front mat in a cloud of steam.

As she followed him into the kitchen, she saw it was more modern than the sitting room which had kept somewhere close to tradition, the kitchen all in white and grey with some blue, the dining table made of glass. She sat down on a barstool at the 'breakfast bar' and Draco slid a mug of tea across the counter to her. She cupped it in her hands, finding herself at a loss for what to say to him.

'You're alright, aren't you Gr- Hermione? Not about to burst into tears on me?' he asked. 'Do you want some whisky in that tea?'

'No thank you,' she said, giggling a little.'And I'm fine, thanks Draco. Maybe later.' She wasn't fine, not really, she could feel a deep ache in her chest that had been hurting for a few hours now, but it seemed that the reality of it hadn't hit her yet. Her mind hadn't processed it properly, it was still confused. 'I forgot to ask by the way, do you have a girlfriend who'd have an issue with me staying here? I really don't mind finding somewhere else if so, it's okay -'

Draco laughed, leaning back against a cabinet. 'No, I don't have a girlfriend. Pansy Parkinson tried to cling a bit after the end of the war but I burned that bridge pretty quickly. Blaise set me up with this girl Astoria Greengrass for a drink about a month ago but not much has really come of that one. So no, no girlfriend.'

After they'd drunk the tea Draco showed her the upper floor, which was as nice as the lower. The spare room was fairly bare and stark, but the bed was as big as the one she and Ron had shared – she'd enjoy spending a night without Ron's kicking and duvet stealing – and she had her own bathroom as Draco's bedroom had an en-suite.

It had grown dark all of a sudden, and they decided that as it was dark it was late enough for a drink. Hermione watched from her stool at the breakfast bar as Draco added together as skilfully as a bartender ice, Firewhisky, Coca-cola and lime in two tumblers, sliding one over to her. She took a sip and felt how strong it was, but the warmth of the Firewhisky was comforting and for the first time since she'd walked out of Weasley Wizard Wheezes she felt some of the pain that had been aching in her chest fade ever so slightly. She drank more, this time a proper mouthful.

Draco went to the fridge and started pulling out food. 'You've got a lot of non-magical appliances,' she commented, as he put a box of eggs on the counter.

'I was put on a compulsory educative Muggle Studies course, it showed me how to use it all. I can't believe that wizards haven't come up with a proper equivalent for fridges yet,' he said, cracking an egg into a bowl. 'You like omelettes, right? They're my current favourite thing.'

'You're full of surprises, Draco,' she said, smiling and finishing off her drink. He gave her a crooked smile, his eye drooping to wink at her. Noticing her empty glass, he quickly created her another drink.

Over an hour, two omelettes and several drinks later, Hermione found herself laughing until her sides ached as she watched Draco try to manually build a fire in the fireplace after she took away and hid his wand when he wasn't looking. As he managed to set light to a pinecone and was so shocked he yelped and fell back onto his arse on the hearth her laughter redoubled.

In retaliation, he grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her off the sofa onto the rug, tickling her ribs until she screamed for mercy. 'Tell me where my wand is!' he cried.

'Never!' she retorted, pushing him in the chest and flipping them over so she was on top, straddling him and holding him down on the rug. They both froze, staring at each other, and Hermione found herself absorbed by the lines of his face, which seemed to have been sculpted without an imperfection, including the small scars on his chin and temple. Her chest was heaving with exertion after the tickling, and she could feel his muscles quivering a little beneath her hands and thighs.

After what felt like minutes, he reached up with one hand and cupped the back of her neck, entwining his fingers with her tangle of hair. Slowly, he pulled her down to him, and she pressed her lips softly against his. The kiss was like nothing she'd experienced before. Viktor Krum's mouth had always been rather dry and his stubble had made it almost painful to kiss him. Ron's kisses had been wet and sloppy, his tongue always shoving as far as it could into her mouth. Draco was somehow both firm and gentle, his lips fitting against hers and his tongue didn't seem to be violating her when it dipped into her mouth.

His hands moved to hold her waist, slipping underneath her blouse, which had become untucked in somehow, and when he touched her soft skin it sent a jolt through her nerves, making her tense and then relax again into him. A finger traced the line of her spine, making her shiver, and then shifted to hold her against him with more force. She shifted her own lips to kiss the crook where his jaw met his neck, biting and sucking a little to elicit a husky groan from him.

'You're not such a good girl, are you?' he murmured, and his hands moved to unbutton her blouse. She'd always had slightly smaller breasts than average and it was a bit of sore spot for her, especially whenever Ron made a thoughtless comment on them. But as Draco pulled off her shirt there was no trace of disappointment or anticlimax in his face, only a smile as he deftly unclipped her bra and reached up to cup one breast, pulling her close so he could kiss the other. She gasped a little at the feeling of his lips and tongue on the tender skin, shuddering with pleasure. Without thinking, she started rocking back and forth, and Draco groaned again, his fingers digging into her as she felt him harden beneath her.

'Oh … sorry,' she murmured. But he just caught her by the waist and flipped them so he was on top, her legs parting so he could rub against her. She unbuttoned his shirt until he could pull it off, her hands running over the lean muscles of his torso. It became more hurried after that, him roughly pulling off her skirt and underwear – she felt briefly embarrassed at the unsexy dachshund-decorated number she'd put on that morning – and her attempting to pull off his trousers.

Somehow they both found themselves naked, their bodies entwined together on the plush rug. 'Draco … Draco I want you,' she gasped, and he needed no more encouragement. He pushed into her slowly, filling her up inch by inch as she gasped and pressed her face against the crook of his collarbone, her fingers digging into his back. It was like nothing she'd experienced before. As he started to thrust inside her, slowly at first and then with more urgency, she moaned each time as she felt him hit her G-spot.

When she finally came, the pleasure was almost unbearable, passing in waves through her body as she lay back on the rug, crying out and clinging to him. He came soon after her, burying his face in her chest as he came, with a spasm, into her. He pulled himself out of her and they lay together on the floor, still wrapped around each other. Her head on his chest, feeling is slowly, steady heartbeat, Hermione felt herself drift off into a contented sleep.

She woke up in a bed with her head splitting open, and for a moment she wondered if it had all been a dream. But then she rolled over and saw she was in the spare bed in Draco's flat, and the reality washed over her. She had slept with Draco Malfoy, and it had been _good_. The best she'd ever experienced, leagues beyond the awkward fumblings Ron had always attempted.

She lay for a while in the bed, and then as her mouth became unbearably dry she pushed back the covers and climbed out. She was wearing what seemed to be one of Draco's t-shirts, emblazoned with 'Wimbourne Wasps', and a pair of clean boxers. Draco must've put them on her and she felt herself redden with embarrassment at the thought of it.

As she walked past the mirror she caught a glimpse of herself and winced. Her makeup had smudged and her hair was sticking up in every direction. Draco had left a jumper for her on a chair in the bedroom, so she pulled that on, and quickly tied back her hair in a bun and rubbed off the worst smudging, so she at least didn't look like a banshee.

Her footsteps were muffled on the carpet as she padded downstairs, and for a moment Draco, who was at the coffee machine, didn't notice her. When he did they exchanged an awkward smile and he held up a large, foamy coffee. 'Need this?'

'Thanks.' Their voices were husky, hoarse, and Hermione coughed a little in her throat. Again she was at a loss as to what to say.

'An owl came for you, a silver one, do you know it?'

'Amadeus,' said Hermione, nodding. It was Harry and Ginny's new one.

'The letter is on the table.'

She went over and slid into one of the chairs, turning the letter over in her hands and recognising Ginny's slanted handwriting. As she opened it and unfolded the parchment, she didn't notice Draco eyeing her from the kitchen.

 _Hermione_ , it read, _Harry and I have heard what Ron did, and we're outraged. He's gone back to live at the Burrow until he finds somewhere else. We hope you were alright last night and not in a state. Please come back to live at Grimmauld Place. Ginny (and Harry)._

She dropped the letter on the kitchen table and looked over at Draco. 'It's from Ginny. She's saying Ron's left Grimmauld Place and they want me to come back to them. So I guess I won't have to encroach on your hospitality anymore.'

'Right,' said Draco, turning away to face the oven. 'I guess you want to get home again.'

She stared down at the letter, a small part of her regretting it had come and a larger part of her wondering why. 'Do you know where my clothes are?'

'Over on the sofa next door.'

It was different to yesterday, between them, they were strained and tense with each other, neither one meeting the other's eye. Hermione left her coffee undrunk and padded through to the sitting room, finding her clothes in a neat pile with her wand on top. It was false modesty after last night, but she changed in the corner where Draco couldn't see her.

'Do you want breakfast?' asked Draco, too politely, as if they'd only just met. Hermione shook her head, a few strands coming loose from her bun.

'I don't think my stomach's up to it. I'll probably just go home now, if that's alright, so Ginny and Harry know I'm okay.'

'Yes, that's fine.'

She started for the door but stopped when Draco called out from the kitchen. 'Hermione! It was … it was good to see you again.'

'And you, Draco.'

'You don't regret ... last night?'

She shook her head. 'No. I guess it's true what they say, that a rebound helps a broken heart.'

He nodded, his eyes staring down at the floor. 'Yes. That's all it was, of course. A rebound. Bye, Hermione.'

Outside it was dry and blustery, and she walked around to a deserted alleyway to Disapparate instead of climbing back into the bush again. On the steps of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, she took a few moments to compose herself and face Harry and Ginny, before opening the front door and stepping inside.

'Hello?'

'Hermione!'

Ginny appeared, dressed in a baggy t-shirt half-tucked into her shorts, and very nearly knocked over a pot of paint in her haste to run over and hug Hermione. Harry and Ginny since moving into Grimmauld Place had been attempting to renovate it, and although all of the Dark and Pro-Pureblood furnishings had been removed, they were still working on the walls and carpets and re-filling the house with furniture. Removing the Portrait of Walburga Black had required they knock down the section of the wall it was attached to and rebuild it.

Hermione allowed Ginny to hug her for a while and then extracted herself. 'Hermione, I'm so furious at Ron, I can't believe I'm related to him he's an absolute bastard!' Ginny set off into an angry rant that took them all the way from the hallway down to the kitchen, where Harry was sat with his godson Teddy eating icecream.

'Do you want some?' asked Harry, indicating to his bowl and Teddy's much smaller and much messier one. 'We were going to wait but Teddy got a little bit impatient.' Teddy grinned mischievously, chocolate icecream spread across his mouth, nose and cheeks.

Hermione shook her head. 'No … I think I'm just going to go shower, you know.' She suddenly found herself unable to be in the happy, domestic scene and fled, hurrying upstairs and locking herself in the bathroom. Under the burning hot jets of the shower, she finally allowed herself to let go and stood for a long time, leant against the wall, her chest aching from the sobs and her eyes stinging from the tears.


	2. Chapter 2

Surprises

'I just don't know, mate,' said Ron for the tenth time, running a hand through his hair and staring into his empty mug of tea. Harry moved to fill the kettle, trying not to get annoyed. Ron had been sat in his kitchen for over an hour, moaning. It was a little over three weeks since Ron and Hermione had broken up, and although Harry was attempting to stay fairly neutral as Ron was still his best mate, he was struggling. He fully disagreed with what Ron had done, and his friend wasn't really endearing himself, either.

'I feel bad that I've upset her,' Ron said in a half-hearted voice.

'Well then, say sorry,' said Harry, unable to keep the bite out his voice. Ron seemed to notice and looked up at him, blue eyes narrowing a fraction. Ginny had not hidden her views on the breakup, first berating her brother and then refusing to speak to him, and Harry couldn't help wishing he could act the same way. But he'd always been some sort of mediator between the two of them, and as Hermione didn't seem to mind him still speaking to Ron, he hadn't yet told his friend what he really thought of his actions.

'I don't think she'll talk to me,' said Ron. The conversation was going in circles. Harry couldn't help glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner.

From above their heads there came the sound of the front door opening and closing, and he looked around, wondering how Ginny was going to react to finding her least favourite brother sat in her kitchen. Last time they'd come face to face she'd threatened him with her famed Bat-Bogey Hex.

But it was much worse than Ginny. Harry recognised the footsteps on the stairs, but didn't have time to do anything but turn around before the kitchen door opened and Hermione stepped inside. For a moment, the three of them were frozen, a seemingly absurd tableau, and then Hermione moved.

Ron started to open his mouth to speak, but Hermione acted as if he wasn't even in the room as she spoke over his head to Harry. 'Hello, Harry, I've got some groceries here.' She placed the bag on the table, still not looking at Ron, and then said: 'I'm going to go take a bath. I'll see you.' She was gone before either of them could reply.

'She won't even give me a chance to apologise!' said Ron, staring morosely at the bag of groceries. Harry couldn't stop himself.

'Ron, you are not the victim here, and so far your attempts to fix this situation have been pathetic. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to start cooking supper.'

Ron glared. 'Fine. I know when I'm not wanted.' And he marched out the room, the front door slamming a moment later.'

Harry looked around as the door opened again, expecting Hermione, but it was Kreacher the House Elf. They'd freed him, under the new House Elf laws, but he still insisted on wearing a neat toga with Regulus Black's locket, only the smart sandals on his feet revealing that he'd been freed. 'Did I hear you saying you were going to prepare food, master? I hope there isn't anything wrong with my cooking. Perhaps yesterday's pie was a little salty, I thought perhaps I had added a little too much …'

'No, no your cooking is excellent, Kreacher,' said Harry quickly, smiling at the elf and stepping back to allow him to reach the counter. 'I just wanted an excuse to get rid of Ron.'

'Ah, yes, of course. Very clever. I see Miss Hermione has bought some mince, perhaps you'd like a shepherd's pie, or the Italian bolognese?'

'Yeah, some bolognese would be great, thanks Kreacher! Can I help?' he asked, indicating to the chopping board, but the old elf shook his head firmly.

'No, no, master.'

'Well then, I'll read out the newspaper for today,' said Harry. They'd discovered that Kreacher very much enjoyed hearing the news each day, but refused to ask them to tell him it or read the newspaper himself, so they'd taken to reading it out without being requested. Picking up the _Prophet_ from the table, he read out the articles while Kreacher started chopping and preparing the food.

Upstairs, Hermione was not running the bath. She was preoccupied by something else, and it wasn't even the unexpected appearance of her ex-fiance, although she made a mental note to tell Harry to warn her whenever Ron was in the vicinity. No, it was something else entirely, and much more worrying.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, she pulled her diary out her briefcase and flicked through it. She'd marked between the 25th and 31st of each month with red dots for the last year, hardly a day wrong. She now flicked to today's date. It was the 1st of November, and she had not marked October in with red dots.

Her heart was thumping a tapdance against her ribs, as she stared unseeingly at the opposite wall. It couldn't be true. She spun through her memory of the last month. She had had sex with Ron over a month ago. She thought about the night of the breakup, the night that she'd spent with Draco Malfoy that she hadn't told anyone about, not even Ginny. Desperately, she tried to remember if they'd used protection. Her memories were drunken, blurred, and she knew she couldn't be sure. It felt odd, but she couldn't deny that if she was pregnant, she would prefer it to be Draco Malfoy's, not Ron's.

Standing up, she left her room and went into her bathroom, quickly tracking down the old stack of leaflets that George had given her as a joke when she and Ron had become engaged. They were shoved to the back of the bathroom cabinet, and all were about the possible consequences of sex.

Throwing away the ones that talked about STIs, she found the one on pregnancy. It was baby pink, the front emblazoned with a picture of a smiling witch hugging her baby bump, bright blue bubble writing asking: 'Prepared for any little surprises?' No, she was not.

She sat down on the seat of the toilet, looking through the leaflet until she found the bit on pregnancy test charms. Pulling her wand out from her pocket, she sat back against the cistern and pointed at her currently-flat stomach. ' _Infans Revelio!_ ' There was a pause, and she started to breathe a sigh of relief - maybe she _was_ just late - but then a faint glow, growing steadily brighter, appeared hovering above her abdomen.

Ginny found her an hour later, curled up on her bed staring dazedly at the opposite wall. 'Hermione? Is something wrong? Was it Ron - Harry said that you'd walked into the kitchen when that git was there, he's really sorry that it happened.'

Hermione didn't move or speak. Ginny edged over to her, sitting down on the edge of the bed. 'What's going on, Hermione?' But her question was answered when she looked down at her friend, curled up on the purple quilt coverlet, and saw the pink leaflet crumpled up in her hand. The headline was just visible above Hermione's fingers.

Supper was not eaten that night. Ginny called down the stairs to Harry that Hermione was suddenly feeling ill, and she was going to sit up with her for a bit, and then she got them both into bed and sat with her arms around Hermione, who was shaking slightly. For a short while, neither of them spoke.

'This doesn't mean you have to get back together with him, Hermione. He doesn't even have to be involved. Hell, you don't even have to keep it if you don't want to,' Ginny said finally, squeezing her friend slightly tighter. But Hermione seemed unusually confused when she replied:

'W-What?'

'I mean, the fact that it's Ron's baby. It doesn't mean anything. He probably will be a tit about it, but we can handle that.'

Hermione stared out the window, steeling herself for what she had to tell her best friend. 'Ginny … it's not Ron's.'

'What?' Ginny exploded. 'What, you were cheating on him as well? Do you mean to say that after all this time that I've been having a go at Ron and protecting you, you were doing exactly the same as him? You're a right hypocrite if that's true, Hermione, I can't believe you! You and Ron deserve each other!'

'No - no, Ginny, it's not like that, I wasn't cheating on Ron, I'd already broken up with him when … this happened,' said Hermione quickly, reddening to her hairline. Ginny frowned.

'I haven't noticed you going off and shagging any men in the last three weeks,' she said slowly. 'Is it someone at work?'

'No it was actually … it was quite soon after I broke up with Ron. I feel quite bad about it, I think it was too soon…'

'A rebound?' said Ginny casually, nodding in an understanding sort of way. Then something seemed to click in her head, as she stared down at Hermione, her dark eyes wide. 'You weren't staying at the Leaky Cauldron that first night, were you?'

Hermione shook her head. Ginny laughed triumphantly, punching the air. 'That's epic! Hermione, you have to tell me who it was with. Dean Thomas? I don't mind if it is him, by the way, we're just friends now … or no, you like Quidditch players don't you. Oliver Wood?'

'He's married, Ginny.'

'Oh, yeah, I forgot about that. Come on, Hermione, you have to tell me.'

'Well … um …' She was very red at this point, 'it was … now don't judge me immediately, Ginny, promise … it was … D-Draco Malfoy.' She stuttered over the name, her flush deepening.

'The _ferret_?' Ginny yelled.

'Shh, keep your voice down Ginny, I don't want Harry to find out like that, you know what the two of them were like at Hogwarts! Yes, but believe me Ginny, he's _changed_. He's a completely different person to what he was like at Hogwarts, he's done a load of rehabilitation and it's made him really nice! I mean, he has a _fridge_ ,' she said finally, as if that explained the changed man. Ginny didn't look like she quite believed her.

'Were you drunk?'

'A little.'

Ginny started to laugh. Hermione hit her, but she only laughed more, and after a while Hermione started giggling a little too, until Harry found them lying in the bed, howling with laughter. He stood in the doorway, looking quite bemused. 'Feeling … feeling better, then?'

'Much,' said Hermione, wiping her eyes.

'Kreacher's saved some bolognese for you, if you'd like it.' He left the room, and as the door swung shut Ginny sat up, smiling.

'I can't believe you're having Draco Malfoy's baby. We need to book you an appointment at St Mungo's, by the way, to get it properly looked over. And you need to find a way to tell him - are you two in contact?'

Hermione shook her head. Last week as she walked through the Ministry, she'd glimpsed a pale blond head in the distance, but she'd immediately ducked down a side corridor and taken a long detour back to the office. 'I don't think I need to tell him.'

'Yes, you do,' said Ginny firmly. 'It's his baby too!'

'That's not what you said when you thought it was Ron's baby!' retorted Hermione.

'Well you and Ron have only just broken up, and getting back involved with each other because of a baby would be really unhealthy, he'd only go off and shag someone else - sorry, Hermione - and then you'd be in a much worse mess than if you just cut him out of it now. But you're not attached in any way to Malfoy, beyond a one-night stand.'

'Yes, which means there's no need to tell him, is there?' returned Hermione.

'What if he finds out in like five years time? That would be so much worse. And anyway, he will find out that you're pregnant, Hermione.'

'Why?'

'Only because every detail of our lives has been blown across the _Daily Prophet_ for the past three years!' said Ginny. 'How do you think they're going to react when you appear with a bump - and even if you hide that, you can't hide a baby. It's not ethical.'

'Fine, but that doesn't mean he has to know its his!'

'He will if he can count, and anyway with the Malfoy genes in there I'd bet my last Knut that the kid will come out white-blonde.'

But nothing Ginny could say would convince Hermione to reach out to Draco and tell him that she was pregnant. In the end, she left it, and instead booked an appointment in the St Mungo's maternity section.

* * *

Draco did not like walking through St Mungo's almost as much as he disliked going into the Ministry. He felt witches and wizards' eyes on him, their heads turning to follow him as he walked, saw them whisper to each other. For the first time, he appreciated how difficult being notorious at Hogwarts must've been for Harry Potter, he felt sorry for him, instead of the corrosive jealousy he'd felt before.

But he had to go into St Mungo's, just as he'd been forced into the Ministry two months ago to get some documents signed in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He'd hoped, without even acknowledging it, that during that trip he'd manage to glimpse Hermione, but no such luck. He wasn't even sure why he wanted to see her - they'd parted ways after their one night stand, and neither of them had attempted to make contact. Although sometimes, when he picked up a piece of blank parchment, he briefly considered writing to her. But he hadn't, and now, three months later, he'd decided to put Hermione Granger firmly into his past.

He had to go into St Mungo's for his checkups, which were now every other month. Although therapy sessions happened in his flat, the Healers liked to get him into the actual hospital for more thorough goings-over. He didn't much like them, but knew that he could've come off much, much worse than just uncomfortable checkups.

He kept his head down as he treaded the familiar path back from his supervisory Healer's office. He liked Healer Thalmus, at least. The man always seemed pleased to see him, and it was gratifying to get that instead of the usual reactions of awkwardness or clear dislike.

Caught up in his own thoughts as he was, he almost walked straight into someone, and he'd apologised absentmindedly before he'd even realised who it was. The head of thick dark hair caught his eye, and he felt his stomach muscles contract. Hermione was looking at him with an expression of something worryingly close to horror, before she shifted her features into an unconvincing smile.

'Draco! Hello, how are you?' she asked, unconvincingly blase.

'Oh, fine,' he said, trying to avoid telling her exactly why he'd come to St Mungo's. Ginny Weasley was stood a few feet away, looking at them both with an unreadable expression. Her hand was on the handle of the door next to her, ready to push it open. He noticed, just above her wrist, a small brass plaque saying: "Maternity Section - Checkups & Delivery". 'Are you pregnant, Weasley? Congratulations.'

'No, I'm not,' said Ginny Weasley in an oddly clear and firm voice, and he saw Hermione turn to glare at her, but her expression didn't change. Draco looked down at Hermione, and as he saw the flush start to rise in her face, he felt something fall into place in his head. Of course Hermione wouldn't contact him - if she was pregnant with Ron Weasley's child, it certainly wouldn't do to be speaking to the man she'd fucked three months ago. He pitied her, being tied to that ginger idiot for the next seventeen years.

'You're pregnant?' he said to her, eyebrows raised. The flush deepened.

'Yes - Draco I'm so sorry,' she said, and he saw that she seemed oddly close to tears. 'I was going to tell you eventually, I just didn't know how, and I thought you wouldn't want to be involved anyway …'

He stared at her. Why would he want to be involved with her and _Weasley's_ child. If it was his, well that would be a different matter, but then - and then it clicked. He felt his heart tango in his chest. It couldn't be true. But the expression on Hermione's face seemed to tell it all.

'Oh fucking Merlin …' He turned away, putting a hand against the wall to lean on it, staring at the ground and blinking rapidly. 'It's … it's _mine_?'

Hermione nodded.

'When were you going to tell me?' he asked, a little sharper than he meant.

'I don't know. I didn't know how you'd react.'

'I want to be involved,' he said, firmly. 'If it's mine. I want to help. Are you going to have it checked out now?' The two women nodded. 'Then I'm coming with you.'

And without another word, he placed his hand firmly at Hermione's elbow, and led her through the doors. Hermione looked over her shoulder at Ginny, who was following a few feet behind them, but Ginny just smirked and looked very pleased at the outcome.

'Who knows about this?' asked Draco, as they walked down the corridor towards the waiting room. 'Do Weasley or Potter know?'

'No, Ronald doesn't, and Harry knows about it but not who the father is, just that it's not a Weasley. You know, if you're going to get involved with this baby, you're going to have to stop calling Harry "Potter", because I assure you he'll be involved and it's silly for you to call each other by your surnames all the time. Really, we're all in our twenties now, all this "Potter" and "Malfoy" rubbish is just stupid,' said Hermione. Draco glanced at her, something playing about the corners of his lips, but she ignored him, sitting down in an empty seat. Draco sat beside her, and Ginny hovered awkwardly for a moment.

'Well, now that Mal- Draco's here, do you really need …' she said slowly, looking towards the door, but Hermione said quickly:

'Ginny, I think you should stay. You were originally meant to be accompanying me, anyway,' she said, pointing to the chair opposite.

'Oh, and what's that meant to mean?' asked Draco, turning to look at her.

'You know, if you'd just stayed in contact with me after I broke up with Ronald, I probably would've been more inclined to tell you about this,' said Hermione, resting a hand on her stomach. Ginny turned to look firmly out the window, as if the overcast sky was fascinating.

'What? You didn't make any attempt to contact me, either. Are you really saying that not sending a Christmas card is as bad as not telling someone they've got a _baby_ on the way? Not even a letter to say "oh, by the way, you're a father". What, are you ashamed that it's me? Would you rather it was someone else, someone a bit less _tainted_ than a Malfoy?' asked Draco, his voice suddenly venomous, and he looked momentarily like his seventeen-year-old self, his face contorted and pained. Hermione stared at him, and her eyes were suddenly full of tears.

'Draco … it's not like that, I swear it wasn't anything to do with -'

'Really? Because I'm afraid I can't think of any other reason why you wouldn't want me to know. Do you think I'm unfit to care for this child?'

'No!' she cried, shaking her head furiously, her hair falling out of its careful bun. 'No, Draco. How can you think I'd believe that, after our night together?'

'Then why? Why, Hermione, did you not tell me?'

'I just …' Her voice faltered a little. 'I felt it was my problem, my body, and I shouldn't pressure you into having to be a part of it.'

'You're wrong,' said Draco, and his voice was steady now, calm. He stared at her with an expression that Ginny, glancing momentarily away from the window, couldn't read. 'Fine, if you'd wanted to abort it, I suppose that's your problem. But now … I can see you're keeping it, and this, this person, it's half me. It's my responsibility, too, and I have a right to be involved.'

Hermione stared at him, her eyes glistening. 'I'm sorry,' she whispered.

'Miss Granger?' The sharp voice made all three of them jump. They'd been so absorbed with the argument that they'd forgotten where they were. A nurse in mint green robes was holding a clipboard and smiling at them. 'Your appointment?'

'Right,' said Hermione, gathering herself. 'Yes, let's go.'

They were led into a little room, which looked very like the rooms that Hermione had seen in Muggle sitcoms, with a white examination bed in the centre and chairs around it, only the large, clunky monitor that showed heartbeats, scans, and other information, was missing. Draco moved to help Hermione onto the bed but she ignored him, lying down and reaching out to take Ginny's hand. Draco ignored this, sitting down near the end of the bed.

The nurse bustled about for a minute or so, before going to Hermione and smiling at her. 'Well, Miss Granger, this is your first check, isn't it? You're three months along?' Hermione nodded. 'Great! We'll be able to take a look at the baby, and check its heartbeat, and if you'd like, you can find out the gender.'

'Yes,' said Draco, as Hermione said 'No', and Ginny said 'We can _see_ it?'

They all looked at each other, unable to contain their smiles. The nurse spoke to Ginny first. 'Yes, the spells that we use to check on the baby's health creates an image of it above the mother's stomach.' Ginny nodded, looking interested, and the nurse turned to Hermione and Draco. 'It's not unusual for this sort of dispute to happen between parents. Do you think you can resolve it soon?'

Hermione and Draco stared at each other. No, they would not be able to resolve this issue in a half-hour checkup. Draco turned to the nurse: 'I can wait until the next appointment.' Hermione stopped herself from asking why he thought she'd have given in by the next appointment, and turned to the nurse as well. They'd argue this out at a later date.

'Let's get started, then,' said the nurse. 'As you're not finding out the gender, we'll just bring up the image of the fetus, and then read its heartbeat and other vitals.'

They all nodded, staring fixedly at the space above Hermione's stomach, as the nurse pulled out her clipboard and started to wave it at Hermione, murmuring spells under her breath. After a minute Hermione gasped, as a strange sensation of warmth passed through her lower abdomen, and her hands automatically began to move towards it. But as they did, an odd glowing light, similar to when she first tested herself for pregnancy, appeared over her.

For a moment, it was an indiscernible mass of light, but then it seemed to shift, the outer edges fading a little to translucency as the light massed in the centre, and as Hermione blinked, she saw it had formed a fetus, lying in the translucent orb. It was about the length of her forefinger, a beautiful, delicate little creature, with a bulbous head and body and tiny limbs. As they watched, it opened and closed a miniscule hand.

Then, as they watched, the holographic image faded away, and Hermione saw Draco, who'd started to reach out his hand towards it, quickly drop his hand to his lap. The nurse, who was ticking things in her clipboard and writing notes, pointed her wand at Hermione's stomach again. 'And now for the heartbeat.'

It was much faster than Hermione expected, a rapid, bird-like tempo that filled the room, and her eyes met Draco's as they listened. Ginny squeezed her hand, but she barely noticed it. Her hands rested on her abdomen, over her baby. She felt her throat swell up, and blinked rapidly, trying to take deep breaths.

'It's real,' she whispered, as the sound of the heartbeat faded away like the image. 'I didn't quite believe … until now …' It had always felt, in the very back of her mind, as if it was some mistake, as if she had perhaps got the spell wrong, but now it was undeniable. She was going to have a child.

'Your baby is healthy, no problems at all,' said the nurse, smiling at them all. 'I think you should be very pleased with the outcome of today.'

'Is that it?' asked Ginny. 'Nothing else to check?'

'As you don't want to find out the gender, no there's nothing else.'

The three of them left the little room, Ginny still holding Hermione's hand in a tight grip, ignoring how clammy their hands had become. Draco strode along beside them, his hands in his pockets, his brow furrowed. 'Cafe?' he suggested, and they both nodded, following him up the stairs to the little tearoom on the top floor.

They sat in silence for a little while, Ginny and Draco drinking coffees while Hermione drank grape juice, then Draco spoke. 'Listen, Hermione, I think you should come live with me, in the apartment. It's not a comment on you!' He said to Ginny as she opened her mouth, looking indignant. 'Although I also don't think that a house that's halfway through being renovated from a complete dank ruin is also not a good place to spend a pregnancy.'

'Excuse me, why do you think it's alright to demand that I come and live with you?' asked Hermione hotly. 'I'm very happy where I am, thank you very much.'

'Yes, I'm sure you are, but I think it would be best if we live together,' said Draco. Hermione stared at him.

'Us. Live together. We'd _kill_ each other.'

'We got on fine, that night that we spent together, when …' He indicated to Hermione's abdomen.

'But that was one night, when I was so upset over Ron I couldn't really think straight, and all we did was eat and then …'

'Shag,' said Ginny, who was now flicking through an old copy of _Quidditch Quarterly_. Hermione ignored her, as Draco smirked.

'What about when there are actual issues to deal with, and we're all tired and grumpy and everything?' asked Hermione. 'We could barely be in the same room together at school without leaping at each other's necks!'

'Yes, but as you so succinctly put it earlier, we are not at school,' said Draco.

'Why do I have to move to _you_ , anyway?' she asked. 'Why can't you move to me, I've got the trump card of having the baby inside me!'

Draco scoffed. 'Yes, because you, me, Potter and the female Weasley all living together is an excellent idea. Let's turn a possible two-way murder into a definite four-person one.'

'It's true,' interjected Ginny again, her eyes still on a picture of the Puddlemere United Keeper epically failing to stop a Quaffle. 'We would kill each other.'

Hermione frowned at her, and then at Draco again. 'Why do we need to live together anyway.'

'Because,' said Draco, seemingly trying his absolute hardest to be calm and collected, 'I want to actually be a part of this. Properly. To be experiencing things with you. If you're living in Grimmauld Place, it'll be the Potter pair who'll be doing everything I should be doing, and I'll just be a slightly redundant extra wheel.'

'You won't be,' said Hermione in a placating voice, but Draco shook his head.

'I will be!'

'I think you should do it,' said Ginny, to the surprise of both of them. She looked up. 'It's not that I don't like living with you, Hermione, and act like I'm attempting to throw you out. I think it's best for the parents of a child to live together, otherwise it gets awkward and difficult and people get upset because they missed the first kick or walking or whatever.'

Hermione glared at her, and then took a sip of her grape juice.

'How about we do a trial period. Three months,' said Draco. 'You just come in as my houseguest, and if it doesn't work out you can go straight back to Ginger and Four-eyes.'

'Sat right here,' said Ginny, but she was smiling. Hermione sighed, admitting defeat. 'This helpfully coincides the fact that you really should tell Harry who the father is, Hermione. He's your best friend, imagine how hurt he'd be if you didn't tell him.'

'Almost as bad as if you didn't tell the father,' quipped Draco. Ginny gave him a scathing look.

'Oh stop complaining, you sensitive little pixie,' she retorted, turning back to Hermione. 'Come on, Hermione, he'll be alright. Once he talks to Draco and realises that he's not a complete arsehole anymore.'

'Again, sat right here,' said Draco. Ginny ignored him. 'Why don't all three of us go back to Grimmauld Place? I think it's best to reveal it with a good, sharp shock, rather than drawing it out. Then I can help you pack.'

'You want me to move in straight away?'

He shrugged. 'Better to get it done, right? Otherwise it'll just drag out.'

They took the Floo network back to Grimmauld Place, as Apparating was dangerous during pregnancy, popping out in the drawing room. It was much changed from its state when the Order was using it as a residence - gone was the dark and mouldy carpeting and wallpaper. It had been stripped out, the walls now a bright and cheerful yellow, the bare wood of the floor revealed and oiled. Bright winter sunlight now shone through the windows, which had been cleaned, and around the fireplace - almost always lit - was a set of handsome blue sofas and armchairs.

Ginny and Hermione went through first, and found Harry sat in an armchair, reading through some scrolls that spilled out of his lap. He looked up as they spun into view, grinning at them and standing up to hug Hermione and kiss Ginny, the scrolls falling to the floor. 'Hello! How was it? All fine?'

'Yes, yes, everything is fine,' said Hermione, wanting to tell Harry before Draco appeared. They'd told him to wait one minute before following them. 'Listen, Harry, there's something we need to tell you.'

'What? It's not the baby, is it? Is anything wrong?'

'Didn't I just say everything is fine?' replied Hermione impatiently. 'No, it's not the baby. It's … it's the father, we met him at St Mungo's, and we need to tell you who it is …'

'Who?' asked Harry, frowning at her. 'What's up? Is he acting -'

But at that point, his words died in his throat, as the fire suddenly glowed green again, and the unmistakeable figure of Draco Malfoy came spinning into view. Harry's mouth fell open, as Draco dusted himself off and stepped out the fireplace, looking apprehensively around. Hermione realised that this must be almost as uncomfortable for him as going back to Malfoy Manor would be for Harry - no, maybe not _that_ bad. That reminded her - she hadn't asked him whether his parents still lived at the manor. The idea of having to go visit there, with her _child_ , made her stomach churn.

Harry and Draco were still staring at each other. Then, achingly slowly, Harry turned to look at Hermione, who felt herself go pink. ' _This_ is the father? Malfoy? This isn't a very funny joke, Hermione.'

'No, Harry,' said Hermione quickly. 'Draco's … different. He is the father.'

'Thanks,' muttered Draco, staring down at his feet.

'You're _sure_ it's not Ron?' said Harry, and he squirmed a little as Hermione looked coldly at him. 'Alright, sorry, it's just … Malfoy?'

'Yes, Malfoy,' said Hermione tersely, suddenly finding herself feeling oddly protective of Draco's, whose pale cheeks had become tinged with pink. 'And as we're now having a child, it's a bit immature of us to call each other by surnames, isn't it?'

Harry opened his mouth, but at that point the door swung open, and Kreacher walked in bearing a large tray with teapot, cups, milk, and a plate of biscuits. He placed it down on the coffee table and then, looking up and seeing Draco, beamed. 'Mr Malfoy! A pleasure to see you again!' he croaked. Draco managed a small smile.

'Kreacher, Draco and I are having a baby,' said Hermione, looking at Harry, who clenched his jaw and sat down, taking a cup of tea from Kreacher.

'Don't worry about him, he'll come round,' whispered Ginny as she passed to go sit beside Harry, placing a hand on his knee. Hermione sat down on the opposite sofa and, grabbing Draco by the shirt and pulling him down beside her. He seemed in a slight daze, even as Kreacher handed him a cup of tea and a biscuit.

'Wonderful news!' he croaked, beaming at them both, and then he left the room. The four of them sat in silence, the clock on the mantlepiece ticking intrusively.

Hermione glanced at Draco. He was staring down at his tea, his brow furrowed. Harry was staring out the window. Ginny seemed to be annoyed at all of them.

'So what're you up to at the moment, Draco?' Ginny asked finally, and Hermione could've hugged her.

'Oh, well,' Draco seemed shocked to be addressed by her all of a sudden, 'I've been trying to sort out my father's businesses, cut of some parts, start others. I've set up some charities, too, with Blaise -'

'Trying to atone for what you did?' asked Harry, turning his head to stare at Draco instead of the window. Hermione and Ginny glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice them. Draco looked up from his tea, staring straight back.

'Yes.'

'Well,' Harry was at a loss for how to retort to Draco's short reply. 'I guess that's … that's … how did you end up sleeping with Hermione?'

Draco raised his eyebrows, and Hermione suppressed the urge to hex Harry, who was still looking churlish. 'I am _sorry_ , Potter, I'd have thought you'd be aware of the details by this point, but clearly you and Ginny here aren't as close as the _Prophet_ leads us to think…'

'I have had sex, thank you!' snapped Harry, and Ginny let out a groan of exasperation, rolling her eyes and turning away as if she couldn't even bear to look at him. 'I'm asking how you and Hermione ended up doing it!'

'Can we not talk about this?' interjected Hermione. 'Harry, that is between Draco and I, it is none of your business to …'

'I think it is!' said Harry hotly.

'How, _how_ is it any of your business?' Hermione's voice was rising now, her eyes narrowing, and she felt her shoulders begin to rise, her fists clenching.

'Because - because I need to know that he's going to be responsible, that he's not going to -'

'What, Potter?' asked Draco loudly. 'That I'm not going to hurt her? Because I was a _Death Eater_?'

'Well … yeah!'

'Bloody hell, Harry, you're as intolerant as Ron!' snapped Ginny, turning on him, but Harry ignored her. 'You know what the situation was with Draco, _you_ gave a testimony to get him out of Azkaban!'

'I'm starting to regret it now,' muttered Harry. 'Just because I got Malfoy out of jail, doesn't mean I want him shacking up with my best friend! I should tell the Weasleys about this, they'd help me -'

'Don't you dare!' screamed Hermione, standing up and drawing her wand. 'Don't you dare, Harry! You have _no right_ to act like this!'

'Are you sure it's not Ron's?' asked Harry, and Hermione almost screeched.

'Yes I am sure!'

Finally, Harry seemed to take notice of how angry she was, and chewed over his words a little. Sadly, it didn't make his words any better. 'I just don't think this is a good idea, Hermione.'

'Well luckily, what you think means fuck all in this, especially after this conversation!' snapped Hermione.

'I'm your friend, Hermione,' said Harry in a maddening voice, 'I just want you to be safe!'

'She will be safe!' snapped Draco. 'Hermione is moving in with me and that's the last of it!'

'No she isn't!'

'Why are neither of you letting me decide what I want?' yelled Hermione.

'Hermione, don't get stressed, it's bad for the baby,' said Harry.

'Oh shut up!'

'I am not letting you move in with a man who I know to be a bastard with a Dark Mark on his arm!' roared Harry. 'It's not safe!'

Draco stood up, and for a moment Hermione thought he was about to curse Harry, and Harry seemed to think so to as his hand went for his pocket. But then Draco turned away and brushed past Hermione, marching out the room. A moment later, the front door slammed. Ginny turned on Harry and started to berate him, but Hermione just hurried out the room, leaning over the banister to look down into the hall. There was no sign of Draco.

'He walked out, miss!' called Kreacher, stood at the stairs to the kitchen with a plate of cakes in his hands. 'Didn't even want a blueberry muffin!'

Hermione ran up to her bedroom. It was as neat as the last time she'd left it. Reaching under her bed, she pulled out her old school trunk - the neat "H. Granger" had almost entirely faded now - and placed it open on the bed. Opening the doors of her wardrobe, she waved her wand and every item of clothing flew out and fell, in slight disarray, into the trunk. The contents of the chest of drawers followed suit, and the books, until the lid of the trunk had to be squeezed shut. She cast a charm to make it feather-light, and carried it from the now-empty room.

As she walked downstairs again, she heard Ginny's voice still raised in the sitting room, but as she went past the door it opened and Ginny appeared. Hermione kept walking, down to the hall, and Ginny followed with Harry trailing behind them.

'Hermione, wait, we didn't mean it to be like this!' called Ginny.

'Hermione, I'm sorry!' called Harry.

She looked back. The two of them were at the top of the stairs still, looking down at her, their faces stricken. She knew they thought that she wouldn't speak to them again, but she instead smiled. 'It's alright, guys. But I have to go.' And she opened the door, and left the house.


	3. Chapter 3

Problems

It was a surprisingly short walk to Draco's flat, in the pretty, circular street of white pillared houses, but in the chilly, blustering wind she was glad to reach it. As she reached the right house she saw the woman that she'd met, three months ago, just entering the front door. The woman smiled at her.

'Hello! You're Draco's friend, aren't you? Come on in!' she said cheerfully, ushering Hermione inside and then walking off up the stairs, humming a cheery tune.

As her voice faded away, Hermione went to the door of Draco's flat, and knocked. There was no answer. She knocked again, trying to hear any noise from behind it. Silence, but she supposed that Draco would've magically sound-proofed it to make sure the Muggles didn't hear any bangs or cracks from spells. She was just trying the doorknob when someone spoke behind her.

'Hermione?'

It was Draco, standing in the hallway staring at her. She looked back, flushing a little. 'Draco! How did I get here first?'

'I … I walked around, a bit,' he said, and he certainly was a little dishevelled and pink in the face. It looked like he'd walked through a pile of leaves and twigs. 'What're you doing here?'

Hermione indicated to her trunk. 'Didn't you want me to move in? Bit awkward if I go back now…'

Draco's strained face immediately relaxed, and when he smiled he looked suddenly quite handsome. 'Yes, yes of course! Come in!' He unlocked the door and led her inside, taking the trunk out her hand. It was odd to step back into the bright, airy flat again, hardly changed since the last time she'd been there, except a couple of new additions which she supposed were Christmas presents. A new coffee table, and in the kitchen what looked like a waffle machine plugged in beside the toaster.

'Draco, I'm … I'm so sorry, about how Harry acted, it was entirely out of line,' said Hermione, feeling horribly awkward and guilty as she followed him into the kitchen. He seemed to be busying himself with making tea.

'No more than I expected,' he said quietly, his back turned to her. She decided not to acknowledge that, but sat herself down at the breakfast bar. When he turned back around with two steaming mugs, he looked more cheerful. 'Well! I guess we'd better move you into the guest bedroom, then.'

'Yes, we need to sort out properly how this arrangement is going to work,' said Hermione, taking a sip of tea. 'I mean, do you want to sublet the spare room to me?'

'What? There's no need for that!' said Draco, looking as if she'd suggested they also get a pet dragon. 'I don't mind -'

'I'm sure you don't,' said Hermione, 'but I do. I'm not staying here out of charity. I've got a job, it's paying me well, and I don't have to go on maternity leave for at least four months. I paid for my room in Grimmauld Place in the last few years, anyway.'

Draco sighed, but admitted defeat. 'Fine. Five Galleons a month, for the room. But I still think this isn't needed.'

'Thank you, Draco.' Hermione suspected that he was selling to her cheap, but decided not to push the matter. She had her sublet, she didn't want to offend him on top of that. 'I might go unpack…'

'Right, sure…'

She left her half-drunk mug of tea on the counter and went upstairs. The guest bedroom was as perfectly neat as last time she'd arrived, although she noticed that someone had left a couple of pairs of shoes beneath a chair, a scattering of Knuts on the windowsill and some sheets of parchment. Had Blaise Zabini come by recently? Did he come by often? It would be odd to meet him again, outside of Hogwarts. Draco had changed so much, and was still friends with Zabini, so maybe he had become a better man as well. She'd heard that he'd inherited a large sum from his grandfather, and was now almost as rich as his mother.

The rest of the day was surprisingly quiet. Hermione unpacked - the contents of her trunk filled hardly two-thirds of the storage in the spare room - and then sat down to complete some work for the next day, reading through documents and writing up her own reports. Draco seemed to be sorting his own business, moving about the flat and once or twice disappearing into his study for a while. At one point he made tea and brought over a mug, looking at what she was writing over her shoulder.

'What's this for? Is that more rights for House Elves?'

'Yes,' she repliedq, dipping her quill in the inkpot and carefully dabbing away excess. She didn't like her reports to be smudged or messy. 'We've managed to free them, which was great, but now it's just about making sure that they have all the proper rights and freedoms afforded to witches and wizards in the workplace. You know, paid holidays and sick leave and pensions, all that. People may have been forced to start paying their elves but that doesn't mean they're not still treating them horribly.'

'Mother and Father's elf is having a great time,' commented Draco. 'I think Mother really actually likes have a free Elf. They do baking together.'

'On that note, where do your parents live? Is it still Malfoy Manor?' Hermione tried to keep her voice casual, but Draco seemed to notice as he gave her a sidelong look.

'No, they sold that and I think the new owners either stripped it out or razed it to the ground. They now move between a house in Devon and one in France,' said Draco. There was a pause, as if he was going to tell her more about the lives of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, but then he turned and walked away. Hermione had heard rumours, nasty vindictive ones, about how Lucius Malfoy was losing his mind, as if that was karma for his action s as a Death Eater. She didn't believe in such things.

The next day started quite uneventfully. When she woke up Draco had left the apartment, and she found a note on the kitchen counter saying he had gone to sort business all day. Her morning sickness hadn't been too bad, and seemed to have peaked a week or two ago anyway, so after it had passed she made herself some breakfast and went to work by Floo. Her morning was fairly busy - they were just about to pass another law setting regulations for House Elf working hours and pay rates, and there was a constant stream of Interdepartmental Memos flying in and out bringing complaints and suggestions.

'Oh, honestly!' said Hermione, reading one letter asking that House Elves be paid at a rate of one Knut a day. 'Some people really are _awful_.'

The other two in the office, Valerie and Thomas, shrugged at her. There were five of them in total working full-time on reforming elf rights, but Benji and Padma were out of office. Benji had gone to speak to the head of the Being Division in the department about setting up a House Elf Liaison Office. It wasn't so much that House Elves _needed_ a liaison office, not being particularly hostile or aggressive creatures, but it was more the symbolic aspect, and the need for more representation. Padma was speaking to her sister Parvati, who worked as a journalist, about a possible piece in the _Daily Prophet_ running a profile on House Elves and the benefits of their new rights.

Around lunchtime, there came a knock on the door. It was Harry, and he looked very tentative at the idea of stepping inside. Several memos whipped past his left ear, but he hardly flinched. Hermione glanced over at him, and then back down at the report she was reading.

'Hello, Harry,' she said coolly, 'have you brought the proposal I asked for from the Auror Office, about enforcing the new laws and ensuring no more abuse of House Elves?'

'Not yet, Bradfield is still working on it.'

She could tell that Harry wanted to tell her something, and was struggling to do so. She looked up at him again, expectantly. 'Well?'

He moved further into the room, looking over at Thomas and Valerie, but they were busy reading through the ever-growing stack of memos and replying to them, and didn't seem to have even noticed his arrival. Still, he positioned himself in front of her desk with his back to them, and pulled something out his pocket. It was a copy of that day's _Daily Prophet_ , and when she saw it she realised that they hadn't received their own morning delivery of it.

'What's that …' She stopped, taken aback by the sight of herself on the front page of the newspaper, her face large and unmistakably sheepish. Ignoring Harry, she leant forward to read.

 _GENIUS GRANGER'S GIGANTIC SECRET!_

 _For years we have admired and revered Hermione Granger, not only for her performance beside Harry Potter in the war, but also for her recent success in reforming elf rights in the British Wizarding Community. However does our star girl have a naughty confession to make?_

 _Three months ago we commiserated as the celebrity couple of Granger and Ron Weasley ended their engagement. Details of the split and its reasons were not divulged, but our reporters suspect that a certain pretty blonde, who Mr Weasley has been seen with several times in the last three months, may have had something to do with it. Hermione Granger, on the other hand, has been stoically single all this time. Or has she?! For the rest of the story, see page six._

Still ignoring Harry, who was now reading her report for something to do, she turned to page six, and was horrified to see not only a photo of her face sandwiched between Ron's and Draco's inside a big pink heart, but also smaller photos of her, Ginny and Draco leaving the St Mungo's Maternity Wing.

 _Our reporters can state in no uncertain terms that Granger and Ginny Weasley were spotted leaving the St Mungo's Maternity Wing yesterday morning. Of course at this point we would be reaching to write congratulations to either Harry Potter or Ron Weasley, however the presence of Draco Malfoy in this little group certainly throws an Erumpent Exploding Fluid into the mix. Why would Draco Malfoy - a man known for his animosity with Granger and her friends, be accompanying them into the Maternity Wing?_

 _Although St Mungo's cannot tell us who_ was _treated in their maternity ward on Sunday, one Healer did agree that she was not stopped from saying that they did not treat Ginny Weasley. So we must ask - is Hermione Granger expecting? And if so, who is the father?_

 _The obvious answer is, of course, Ronald Weasley, but then why should Draco Malfoy be accompanying her? Could it be possible that it is not Weasley but Malfoy who fathered this child? We agree that this seems preposterous, however our Special Reporter Stacie Grace has confirmed that later on Sunday afternoon Malfoy was seen leaving Grimmauld Place - where Granger lives with Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley - and then a short while later Granger herself left, with a trunk, and went to Malfoy's own residence._

 _Although Granger has not confirmed this is the case, we ask her to come out and confirm who is the father of her expected child. Surely questions need to be raised over not only the suitability of her working much longer while pregnant, and especially over the father. Is Granger pursuing a relationship with Malfoy? Is he going to be a part in raising her child? It is well known that Malfoy has undergone stringent therapy and rehabilitation in the last three years, but is it right for a man with his past to raise a child with one of our saviours?_

 _And even more controversially - if Draco Malfoy_ is _the father of the child, when was it conceived? It is normal for the first checkup to be after three months, which gives us a pretty close margin for the conception. Or, unbelievable as it seems, was there no margin at all? Was the ended engagement between Granger and Weasley not because of a misdemeanour on Weasley's part, but because of one on Granger's? It certainly appears that the formerly sensible and staid Hermione Granger has gone a little wild since her engagement ended! More updates coming soon from Special Reporter Stacie Grace._

'Oh fuck.'

Thomas and Valerie looked up, askance. She hardly ever swore. Harry, realising she'd finished reading, quickly put down the report and took away the newspaper, shoving it back in his pocket. 'I'm sorry, I blocked you from getting your _Prophet_ this morning as soon as I saw the front page. I thought it would be best if I … well even though I didn't exactly act … I just…'

'You just wanted to be my friend and help me,' said Hermione heavily, staring down at the space where the newspaper had lain. She hadn't even noticed any reporters hanging about in St Mungo's, but there were so many people around that it would've been easy for someone to sneak a photo of them. And there were always a few people in Grimmauld Place, trying to spot the residence of the famed Harry Potter. Harry had wisely not lifted the Fidelius Charm on the house.

'Hermione … you're going to have to go speak to Kingsley, to explain this. Even if there's no legal need, he's the Minister for Magic and your friend, and it's right to give him the facts and not just let rumours fly,' said Harry. 'And you should maybe consider telling the Prophet the real story.'

'What, that I slept with Malfoy on a rebound?' hissed Hermione. 'How is that a good option?'

'Better than everyone thinking you were sleeping with him _before_ you broke up with Ron. Be careful, Hermione, this could ruin friendships for you, especially with the Weasleys. They're already trying their hardest to be on good terms with both you and Ron, think what'll happen if they think you cheated on him with Malfoy!'

'I just … I just don't like telling private details of my life like that!' sighed Hermione, blushing at even the idea of it.

'You can keep it discreet, and get Parvati to write the story around it. She's as bad as the rest of them, I know, but at least she knows you and is likely to write the truth,' he said. 'I'm sorry it's like this.'

They both looked around at another knock on the door. Draco was in the doorway now, holding a copy of the newspaper. 'Not here!' cried Hermione quickly, feeling desperate at the idea of another story saying Draco visited her at work. 'Harry, walk away with Draco and go to St James' Park. I'll meet you both there. Find somewhere discreet, away from the cameras?'

Valerie and Thomas had noticed something was up by now, but were polite enough not to say anything. They just looked slowly between her and the door. Hermione ignored them until she'd written a brief, terse note to Parvati Patil telling her to meet them - alone - in the park. She attached it to the office owl - for messages to offices out of the Ministry - and threw the small bird so hard it nearly threw straight into the doorframe, missing it by an inch and recovering with some rapid flapping of wings. 'I'm pregnant!' she snapped, before grabbing her bag and marching out of the office.

St James' Park was only a few streets away from the Ministry - in fact some of the furthest offices were beneath it - and so was often populated by Ministry witches and wizards enjoying their breaks. The Muggles who shared the park with them often had to be Confunded or Obliviated whenever someone forgot they were in public and cast a spell, and it was a common joke in the Ministry that this habit contributed to the idiotic policies of the Muggle Parliament, which was also nearby in Whitehall.

Hermione knew where Harry would be - the two of them had a discreet bench beneath a willow tree that couldn't be seen unless you were right beneath the branches. They often spent their lunches there, enjoying the fresh air and throwing crusts at the ducks. After a Muggle had wandered in and nearly seen them charming bread to fly straight at ducks, they'd began casting Muggle-Repelling Charms on the tree, and sure enough as Hermione walked through the branches she felt the odd swooping sensation in her stomach that warned of such a charm.

Harry and Draco were sat as far away from each other as possible on the bench, and Hermione realised how sending the two of them off alone together may not have been the best idea. They didn't seem to have attacked each other yet, and were merely sat in a stony silence.

They both looked around at the rustling of leaves as she stepped through, and looked immensely relieved that she'd arrived. Sighing inwardly, she went over and sat between them, feeling like she had in Fourth Year when Ron and Harry hadn't been speaking.

'So, what's the plan?' asked Draco, unfolding the _Prophet_ and looking over the article again. 'How do you think they got these pictures?'

'There's so many people around in St Mungo's, it wouldn't have been hard,' said Hermione, staring at a pair of ducks swimming in circles in the dirty stretch of water by the shore.

All three of them looked around at the sound of footsteps, Draco hurriedly putting his wand inside his jacket pocket, but it was only Parvati. 'Merlin, you do find an odd place to meet. Even with your instructions, Hermione, I almost didn't find it.'

'We wanted to make sure you hadn't brought along any more of your reporter friends,' said Hermione coolly. 'You haven't, have you?'

'No.' Hermione cast a Muffliato Charm on the tree, anyway. Parvati sighed. 'Oh Hermione, you know how it is, I can't stop any stories going out!' said Parvati. 'Stacie Grace is senior to me.'

'Yes, and I'm sure you tried your absolute hardest to stop the story,' said Hermione in an acid tone. Parvati raised her eyebrows.

'I did, actually. Managed to stop them writing that you've been seeing Malfoy all along, ever since the war,' she said.

'Oh. Well, thank you for _that_.'

'What have you brought me here for, anyway? If it's just to berate me for something that's out of my control, I'm going back to the office. I've got a report to finish.'

She actually turned away from them, but Hermione conjured a chair onto the ground facing them and indicated to it. 'Sit. Or do you want to miss getting an exclusive statement from Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy?'

Parvati stopped and turned back, looking interested now. 'A reply to the article this morning?'

'That's what we're doing?' said Draco, looking around at her and Harry. Hermione nodded.

'Did Harry not say?' That fact was obvious, but Draco shrugged. 'I mean, you don't have to be a part of this if you don't want to…'

'No, no I think it's a good idea,' said Draco hurriedly.

Parvati was looking like a cat who'd just been given a large bowl of thick cream as she pulled a scroll of parchment and quill out of her bag. Hermione knew that, as a junior reporter, getting a statement from her about her pregnancy would be a huge scoop. She could trust Parvati not to mess with the details or make wild accusations like Stacie Grace had, for fear of losing Harry and Hermione as contacts.

'Alright,' said Hermione, looking between Harry and Draco. 'Now, we want you to write down what we say _exactly_ , okay? No embellishments or taking things out of context...'

'Of course!' said Parvati, grinning at them. 'So what's the story?'

'Well,' Hermione looked at Draco now, suddenly unsure what to say. 'Let's just be entirely truthful. The baby is mine and Draco's, it was conceived _after_ I broke up with Ron, and we are going to raise it together as friends. And you can add in that I caught Ron cheating, just to clear up that little issue. But the main point is that Draco and I were not having an affair while I was with Ron.'

'Baby conceived post-Weasley,' muttered Parvati as she wrote, nodding. Hermione looked at Draco.

'Anything you'd like to add?' He shrugged and shook his head. She turned to Harry. 'Anything?'

'Only that I corroborate the story,' he said firmly. 'All of it.'

She beamed at him, entirely forgiving him for his attitude the afternoon before. Turning back to Parvati, she held out her hand. 'Can I read what you've written?' Parvati sighed, but handed over the parchment. Everything was just as Hermione had said, to the word. 'That's great, Parvati, thanks. And the piece on house elves?'

'Yes, yes, I've already agreed to Padma that we'll do that. It won't be headline news though, you know. Maybe a column or two of page nine?'

'That's enough, for the moment,' said Hermione, signing the bottom of the parchment and handing the parchment back to her. As she did, she quietly cast a charm so that Parvati couldn't magically alter any of the words written. They shook hands, and Parvati left.

'Do you think she'll write it truthfully?' said Draco, standing up to watch her retreating back through the fronds of the willow. Hermione nodded.

'She may enjoy gossip, but I think we can trust her,' said Hermione. 'After all, she knows that if she doesn't Harry and I will just tell everyone she's a lying idiot. Hopefully she'll usurp some of that Stacie Grace's power in writing this story - I'd much rather have Parvati Patil writing about us, if someone has to.'

'Well, shall we walk back to the Ministry then?' said Harry, standing up.

'I've got to drop in some documents anyway, so I'll walk with you,' said Draco. He and Harry avoided each other's gaze, but Hermione managed to mediate a fairly successful conversation between the two of them as they walked, and Draco actually _laughed_ as they walked along the corridor to her office.

His laughter was cut short, however, as they walked through the door and saw none other than Ron Weasley sat in Hermione's desk chair. He looked livid, and Hermione saw that he had the _Daily Prophet_ article on her desk in front of him. He looked around as they walked in and stared from Hermione, to Harry, to Draco. 'What the fuck?'

Hermione ignored his ugly words. 'Ron. What're you doing here?' she asked, icily polite. He stood up, manoeuvring his gangly frame around the desk towards them.

'You know why I'm here!'

'Come on, Ron,' said Harry, stepping forward and holding up a hand to him. 'You know that the _Daily Prophet_ -'

'That it what?' snapped Ron. 'That it's lying? About the pregnancy? There are pictures!'

'The pregnancy is real, Ron,' said Hermione steadily. She'd quietly reached out and touched Draco's wrist, trying to communicate to him that it was best for him to do nothing. She felt him glance down at her, but kept her gaze on Ron.

'Then it's mine, isn't it!' said Ron, trying to advance past Harry, who put his hand on his chest now. 'What're you doing hanging out with Malfoy?'

'It's not yours, Ron,' said Hermione. 'Draco and I -'

'You cheated on me!' roared Ron. 'You bitch!' He reached for the pocket of his robes, but before he could touch his wand there was a bang and he flew across the room, smashing into a filing cabinet. Several drawers flew open, showering him with parchment. Harry looked around, his hands empty, and saw Hermione holding out her wand towards him.

'I did _not_ cheat on you, Ron!' said Hermione, her voice shaking now. She could see in her peripheral vision, Valerie and Thomas talking to each other, their eyes on Ron and their wands in their hands. 'It was you who did that.'

Ron straightened up, and strode past Hermione to Draco, who stood his ground, staring straight back at him. 'You may have wriggled your way in somehow, Malfoy, but you'll never be anything more than a cowardly, hated, ex-Death Eater _bastard_.' There was a pause, and then Draco's fist whirled through the air, striking Ron squarely on the mouth. Ron gasped, stumbling back towards Harry, who grabbed him and pushed him towards the door.

'Go, Ron.'

Ron stood in the doorway, looking back at the three of them. His lip was cut. 'Fuck you all. You'll never talk to any of my family again, Hermione, except maybe Ginny because she's with him.' He jabbed a finger towards Harry. 'You're either the whore that cheated on me, or the bitch that would rather have Malfoy raise her baby than me. Take your pick.' He spat out blood on her carpet, and then left.

* * *

The new article, by Parvati Patil, was released the very next morning in the _Daily Prophet_. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she read it over her morning's orange juice and cereal - her method for settling her stomach after getting sick. She was just starting to show, although only she could notice, an almost imperceptible bump between her hip bones.

'Patil written it yet?' She looked up as Draco strolled into the room. He didn't seem to be working that day, as he was still wearing only a pair of pyjama trousers and a hoodie, his chest bare. His torso was as toned as in her blurred memories, the muscles hard and finely defined. She pointedly averted her eyes.

'Can't you wear more clothes?' she asked.

'Why? I don't mind if you want to wear less,' he said, winking and grinning crookedly at her. She ignored that, so he slid the newspaper away from her to read the article. 'Not bad. Almost complementary about me, and positively glowing about you. She must've heard about Weasley being a prat in your office, as she's mentioned him having a "violent temper" and "bad disposition". Nice.'

'Don't you think she went a little far?' said Hermione, worry twisting in her stomach. 'I don't want too bad a picture to be painted of him, it'll make the Weasleys angry.'

'Calm yourself, Granger - saying it ironically - and stop caring about what other people think. That man cheated on you, insulted you, and then told you he was going to turn half your friends against him. I'm only sorry that I just punched him. Really, any Weasley that is stupid enough to believe his lies, you don't deserve to be friends with.'

'I guess, but they _are_ his family,' said Hermione, staring at the dregs of milk and cornflake at the bottom of her bowl. 'Anyway, I'd better get to work soon - can I get that newspaper back?'

'Yeah, sure. Check this out.' He moved around the counter, pointing out something on the opposite page. 'Isn't that picture of the Puddlemere United Seeker hilarious? He looks like such an idiot.'

Hermione found herself unable to see the Puddlemere United Seeker. Draco was leaning across her, his hand on the back of her stool, so close she could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin. She smelled something delicious, a mixture of leather and spicy cologne, and something warm and smokey like fine scotch. She blinked, gulped a little, and managed to nod.

'Right. I think I'm late!' She turned away from him, jumping off her stool, and busied herself with pulling on her cloak and checking everything was in her bag. When she turned back, bag in hand, Draco was over by the fridge, and she let out a slow sigh. Trying to ignore the fresh roiling in her stomach, she hurried over to the fireplace and with a few spins, stepped through to the Ministry.

Less stares followed her that day than yesterday, less whispering behind hands as she walked past. The day was uneventful, most of it spent looking over some of the finer details in a section of the House Elf rights law, about sick leave. Her supervisor, a man called Marco Bestio, arrived to talk to her about maternity leave. She was surprised he was being so prompt about it - Bestio was notorious for being disordered and forgetful about just about everything.

When she arrived home that evening, she stretched out along a sofa with a pile of documents. Bestio had told her that she could have all the maternity leave she wanted, but if she wanted to get the House Elf legislation through, it would either be done in the next five months, or take five years.

'Still working?' Draco appeared, thankfully dressed now, in a set of loose, dark robes, his hair slightly dishevelled. 'I finished a while ago. Mind if I listen to music while I cook?'

'Sure, no problem.'

Soft classical music, mainly Beethoven, filled the apartment, and Hermione heard Draco humming to himself as he chopped vegetables and started frying chicken. After a while, Hermione went back to drafting laws.

She was surprised, therefore, to hear someone on the other side of the front door, and to see the door knob turning when she looked around. The front door swung open, and Blaise Zabini strolled into the flat.

'Honey, I'm ho-,' he stopped, and stared at her, '-ome?'

'Hello, Blaise,' said Hermione, smiling up at him. He looked older than last time they'd come face to face, the high collar of his trench coat highlighting the almost drawn lines of his face. He was still as handsome as at Hogwarts, but he'd never been her type, really.

'Well you're not who I expected to see here,' said Blaise, dumping a briefcase by the door and starting to pull off his scarf and coat. 'I seem to have missed something in my absence.'

'Right, well…' Hermione wasn't quite sure where to start. Did Blaise even know about the one-night stand? She looked towards the kitchen, but Draco seemed oblivious of his friend's arrival, the sound of chopping and frying still drifting through from the kitchen, among the notes of a violin. 'I've only been here about a day, actually…'

Finally, Draco seemed to notice something was going on. 'Hermione? Do you want something to -' They both looked round as he strolled into the sitting room, drying his hands with a dishcloth. 'Ah, Blaise! I thought you wouldn't be by for at least a fortnight, shouldn't you be in Milan?'

'I'm supposed to get there later tonight,' said Blaise, smiling and walking forward to hug his friend. 'But I thought I'd drop by for dinner, as I was passing. Didn't realise you had a guest…'

'Oh, right, yeah this should probably be explained,' said Draco, indicating at himself and Hermione, who raised her eyebrows.

'This?'

'Us. Hermione and I are friends,' began Draco, seeming to be struggling as much as Hermione had with explaining the situation. It did seem quite absurd. 'And she's living with me because … well because we're having a baby together.'

Blaise burst out laughing. 'That's a good one! Right, so what's the real reason? Have you two been hooking up or something?'

Hermione felt herself redden, and even Draco looked a little pink. 'No, really Blaise, Hermione's pregnant with my baby. We're living together so we can share looking after it.'

'You two are together?' said Blaise, looking from Draco to Hermione to Draco again.

'No, just a one-night stand,' said Hermione, still feeling very hot and bothered. 'But I'm keeping the baby, and Draco's decided to help.'

'Well,' said Blaise, crossing his arms and giving them a rather parental look, 'I can't say I don't disapprove of the way you young people act, it's highly irresponsible but … I at _least_ expect to be a godparent, and maybe also for it to be named after me. Blaise is a unisex name, you know, it works for both girls and boys.'

Draco laughed, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. 'Thanks, mate. Dinner's nearly ready, if you want some?'

'It's why I came by,' said Blaise, 'it's you who's foisted all this news about babies on me.'

The three of them entered the kitchen, Hermione setting aside her work to help set the table, and set off into a thoroughly enjoyable meal. It was almost as surprising to see the change Blaise had undergone as it had been meeting the new Draco, but it was something else about him that interested Hermione. Draco looked at his friend with an expression she'd never seen on his face - although it wasn't far from when they talked about the baby - and she struggled to fathom it for a while. To her, it seemed to be expressing an odd mixture of pride, and captivation, and intense love. It fascinated her.


	4. Chapter 4

Breakthroughs

It took a few days for Hermione to settle in Draco's apartment. She kept finding herself walking towards Grimmauld Place, and she missed talking with Ginny and Harry in the evenings. But to her surprise, and delight, Draco was just as interesting to talk to as her best friends.

The first Saturday they spent together, they found themselves sat together in the sitting room. Hermione had her nose in a book, reading about the diplomatic crises between Scandinavian and Mediterranean wizarding communities after the Troglodyte Misunderstanding of 1854. Draco was reading through some documents that his accountant had sent him, his quill occasionally scratching a note or correction.

'Do we need to think of names?'

Hermione looked up over her book at him. His quill was poised over the parchment. 'Names?' She hadn't really thought about it, yet. She was only just entering the fourth month.

'Well, knowing us, it's going to be a contentious topic,' said Draco, setting down the quill now. Hermione reluctantly closed her book.

'Draco, everything is a contentious topic with us,' retorted Hermione, which made him grin.

'Exactly!'

'Fine, what do you suggest?'

'Scorpius? If it's a boy, that is...'

Hermione stared at him. 'Excuse me. You want to name our child after a _scorpion_?'

'Not a scorpion! The star sign, Scorpio. After all, the baby was conceived under it.'

'Yeah, you say star sign, I'm hearing scorpion. I veto.'

'You veto?' He threw back his head and laughed. 'What is this, the International Confederation?'

'I'd say it's a microcosm of it,' replied Hermione smoothly. 'We get to veto names. How about Rose, for a girl?'

'Ugh, so boring,' groaned Draco. 'Rose. A flower. Do you want our baby to be that simple?'

'So you're vetoing?'

'No, I'm going to be conservative about my vetoes. Unlike you. So Rose is on the list, just low down. Very low down,' said Draco, rifling through the parchment and pulling out a blank sheet. 'Okay, my go. Ophelia?'

Hermione burst out laughing. 'You _what_. Are you stuck in the 17th century or something? I spent childhood with a weird name, and it was not fun. I don't want our child to be bullied!'

'Ophelia wouldn't be bullied, she'd be lovely,' said Draco stubbornly. 'I'm putting it down. Your go.'

'Callum.'

'No. Vanessa.'

'Well … not my thing.'

'It is _my_ thing.'

'Sure, and guess who's actually carrying the child? Veto. Hugo?'

Draco opened his mouth, and then stopped, cocking his head slightly to one side. 'Hmm. Hugo. Not bad. I'll put it down. Okay, how about Orion?'

'It's a little odd, but not as bad as Scorpius. Emily.'

'Are you fucking kidding me?'

'What, what's wrong with Emily?'

'Nothing. I have nothing wrong with people called Emily. Except they're boring.'

'They are not! My Granma was called Emily!'

'Was your grandma boring?'

'Oh shut up, Draco, you don't need to be rude!' she snapped, crossing her arms and turning away from him. A silence drew out between them, and then Draco muffled a snigger. She refused to look back around at him. There was a shifting of cushions, and she heard him stand up.

'Hermione …'

She glanced around, and jumped a little as she found he'd leant over the sofa, his face half a foot from hers. His grin was mischievous, and she felt her heart tango against her chest. That delicious smell, of cologne and leather, filled her nose again, and she suddenly noticed how muscular his arm was, leaning against the back of the sofa.

'You alright?' he asked, frowning at her now. She nodded hurriedly, turning away from him and hoping beyond hope that her blush wasn't too noticeable. 'Okay, well I guess Emily can go on the list. How about Helena?'

'Helena? Oh, that's great!' Hermione's voice was slightly higher than usual, and she hurriedly coughed. She did actually quite like Helena. Draco had sat back down, frowning at the parchment again and writing down "Helena". 'So, um, I like Rory?'

'Okay, but not enough hard consonants.'

That snapped her back to attention. 'What do you mean, "hard consonants"? You're deciding our baby's name on that?'

'It's a factor. I don't know, I just like names with hard consonants, instead of softer ones like Rory and Larry and Harry…' She narrowed her eyes at him, but he just smirked. 'No offence? Okay, maybe we should come back to names later. Tea?'

'Only a small one.'

He nodded and padded off to the kitchen. For a moment, there was the sound of a tap running, and then a bang and muffled swearing. She turned her head towards the kitchen. 'I splashed water on myself!' Draco groaned, laughing and appearing at the archway to show her the long dark patch across his t-shirt and linen trousers. 'I'll just change, my wand is upstairs.'

Before she could protest, he'd stripped off the soaked t-shirt, the corded muscles of his torso prominent as he stretched his arms above his head, arching his back slightly as he pulled the shirt over his head. His hair was dishevelled now, a long lock falling over his forehead. As she tried to tear her gaze away, he took off the trousers too. His boxers were black, and fitted cotton, tight around his waist and thighs. Hermione quickly picked up her book and opened it. It took her a moment to realise it was upside down.

'Merlin, there's water _everywhere_.'

She got up very hurriedly, ignoring Draco mopping the floor and striding upstairs with a muttered comment about "finding something".

* * *

Grimmauld Place was full of noise as Hermione stepped inside. It sounded as if someone was taking apart the entire first floor. She heard Harry shouting over the noise of banging, and then Ginny's laughter. Hermione smiled, and walked further into the hallway, pulling off her cloak and hanging it up on the peg.

'Is someone here? Hermione!' Harry appeared, covered in dust and wiping his glasses. Ginny came down behind him, holding her wand in one hand and a large chunk of plastered wood in the other. 'What's up?'

'Nothing much, just wondering if you guys wanted to go get lunch or something? I realise I haven't seen much of you in the last while,' said Hermione, gingerly hugging the dusty Harry.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look. 'Oh, Hermione, that sounds really nice but … we sort-of said we'd go to the Weasleys for Sunday lunch. Mrs Weasley is cooking roast beef,' said Harry.

'Oh, well, that's okay, I'd love to see the Weasleys again,' said Hermione, reaching out for her cloak again. Harry and Ginny exchanged another look, and she stopped. 'What?'

'Well…'

'It's just …'

'They don't want me.' She tried to keep her voice light, but her heart was sinking rapidly. She'd always known that there was a risk the Weasleys would take Ron's side in the breakup, but she'd always hoped that they'd rise above it. Clearly, Mr and Mrs Weasley at least had not. 'That's fine, I've got some work to get done for Monday, anyway. See you guys.'

Ginny called out to her, but Hermione had already grabbed her cloak off the hook and left, striding out into the damp drizzle and letting the front door slam behind her.

Back at the apartment, Draco was frying vegetables and potatoes, and looked rather askance at the sight of a damp Hermione walking back in. 'You're back quickly. Were Spectacles and Ginger busy?'

'Yes.' Her voice choked a little as she sat down, and Draco turned, raising his eyebrows in surprise. 'They're going to the Weasleys. And I'm not invited.'

She was rather embarrassed as she gave a large sniff, and had to wipe her eyes. To her surprise, next thing she knew Draco was sliding into the seat beside her, a plate of food in one hand and a wad of tissues in the other. 'Hey, no need to cry over those carrot-topped idiots.'

'I'm sorry,' she said, taking a tissue and wiping her eyes. 'It's just … they were like a second family to me. I stayed with them so many times, even for Christmas and stuff. And now, with my parents wanting to still live in Australia even after I restored their memories, and with a baby on the way, I just wanted their support!'

'If they're immature and petty enough to drop contact with you over support for their useless son, they're not worth knowing. Hermione, you've got so many people to support you - me, Blaise, Harry, Ginny, we're all going to help.'

'I know,' sniffed Hermione, 'it's just sad to lose them.'

He put an arm around her, hugging her against his chest. They sat like that for a moment. Hermione could feel his heartbeat, thumping against his ribs. Draco spoke first, and she could feel the vibrations as he did. 'Are you going to eat that food, or can I?'

Hermione laughed, sitting up and pushing the plate towards him. 'No, you have it. I'm going to go sort out my damp things.'

She went upstairs to her room, shutting the door carefully before she stripped off. Standing in her underwear in front of the mirror, she placed her hands lightly over the lower part of her stomach, between her hips. It was hardly noticeable, could have been nothing, but she could feel the slight rise beneath her fingertips. Her child.

Pulling a robe around her body, she walked out onto the landing. 'Hey, Draco!' she called, leaning over the banister. 'What about Lucas?'

'Lucas? What about him?'

'I mean, for the baby. If it's a boy.'

Draco appeared on the stairs, looking thoughtful. 'Lucas. I quite like that. What brought that on?'

'I don't know, just came to me.'

She decided to have an early night that evening, enjoying a bath and the fact that she was going to get ten hours sleep before her alarm went off in the morning. Except sometime past midnight, she found herself woken up by a bang right outside the door. Letting out an annoyed groan, she slid out of bed and padded over to the door, pulling it open and glaring at Draco. He looked around, smiling guiltily.

'Sorry, did I wake you?' He straightened up, rubbing his knee. 'I tripped.'

'Can you not?' she huffed, putting her hands on her hips. 'I'm trying to get some sleep, and I am -'

'Now, you can't pull the pregnancy for _everything_!' he retorted, moving closer to her. 'Calm down, Granger, it was an accident. Oh, and I like those pyjamas.'

She glared at him, glancing down at herself. It was only a strappy tank top and pyjama bottoms, decorated with a rosebud pattern, but as she did it she noticed that he was only wearing pyjama trousers himself. 'I think you should wear more clothes.'

'Oh, really?'

'Yes, really.'

'I think you secretly like it,' he said. They were close enough to touch now. Hermione could feel the heat of his body, or was it hers? She craned her neck to look up at him, her heart going mad. She went up on tiptoes, to try and face him properly, feeling oddly annoyed at his attitude. But then she leant forward as she did, and he did too, and their eyes closed and then they were kissing.

It was as good as last time, better even, because she wasn't drunk, she could properly experience it. His lips were warm, and firm, and they seemed to caress hers even as he kissed her so hard it was going to bruise. Her hands slid down his back, finding his firm buttocks and pulling him closer.

They broke apart as he kissed her neck, and he reached down to lift her from under her thighs, carrying her through the door of her bedroom as she wrapped her legs around him. She felt him harden between her legs, and gasped as he sucked at her neck, making her moan.

He laid her down on the bed, so gently she hardly felt it, and she smiled up at him as he crawled over her. Her hands ran over the hard lines of his muscles, as he slid his hands under her tank top, pulling it over her head. As he touched her breasts, playing with her nipples until they ached, she couldn't help moaning a little, and her hands slid under his pyjama trousers to squeeze his arse.

As they kissed more, a hand slid from her breasts down her stomach, making her squirm a little from her ticklishness, and then played a little at the ties to her pyjama trousers. She glared at him as he smirked. 'Stop teasing,' she hissed, and with a chuckle he slid his hand between her legs, making her cry out a little as he touched her and sent a burst of pleasure through her pelvis. He touched and rubbed her until she was writhing beneath him.

'Please … Draco!' she cried, scratching at his chest. 'I want you!'

But he continued to tease, sliding off the bed to kneel on the floor, he grabbed her thighs and slid her to the edge of the bed, pulling off her pyjama trousers. She gasped as his lips brushed against the soft skin above her left knee, sliding an inch or two further up to kiss again, slowly making his way up to the warmth between her legs. As his lips touched her warm, wet pussy Hermione cried out, and Draco smiled as she wrapped her legs around his neck. Her fingers scrabbled at the sheets and she started to reach down to touch his hair, but as she did his tongue flicked her already swollen clit and she arched her back, moaning in pleasure as he continued to eat her out, alternating gloriously between suckling and licking.

The heat and tension built up in her pelvis, and before long she came, moaning and writhing on the bed as the waves of pleasure went through her. As it passed, she lay limp, gasping for breath, and Draco crawled back on top of her to kiss her neck.

'Draco,' she whispered, clawing his back a little, 'I want you.'

'I've been waiting four months for you to say that again,' he murmured, and as he moved between her legs and slid his erect cock into her, Hermione felt a joy like nothing she'd experienced before. She wanted beyond anything for it to never end, for her and Draco to stay forever entwined in this glorious limbo.

They went slowly this time, enjoying each movement and the sensations it brought. Hermione clung to Draco, holding him close to her as he thrust inside her and they moaned in pleasure together. She'd almost forgotten how big he was, how he seemed to entirely fill her up, and it gave her a feeling of wholeness she couldn't remember experiencing before, except the one night four months ago. Finally, after what seemed like both hours and far too short a time, Draco thrust deep inside her and came, murmuring her name as he did.

He slid out of her, lying down on the bed beside her, and she nestled beside him, her head resting on his chest and his arm encircling her body to hold her close, his hand resting on the slight bump in her stomach. Hermione drifted off to sleep, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, and the delicious ache between her legs.

* * *

Hermione woke the next morning to find herself alone again. As she felt herself slide towards consciousness, she reached out to touch Draco beside her, but her hand fell through empty space to the mattress. Crooking open an eyelid, she saw only the dip where he had lain, already cold. Slowly, she pushed hair out her face and sat up, drawing the duvet up with her and looking around. The room was empty.

Her alarm was beeping on her bedside table, so she got up and got herself ready for work, combing her hair with a special elixir to tame it a little so that she could pin it back. She expected to find Draco cooking downstairs, but the flat was silent and empty. The baby was making her feel queasy, anyway, so she only ate a few bites of toast before leaving for the Ministry, the happy memories of the night before fading fast as she fought her way through the rush hour crowds in the chilly Atrium.

'You okay?' Padma said as she sat down and started sorting through her desk, looking suspiciously at her from across the room. 'You seem in an odd mood.'

'Fine, fine,' said Hermione. She liked Padma, but she did not want to set off into a discussion of the night before, nor the aftermath in the morning. 'What's the plan for today?'

Luckily, this distracted Padma as she set off into an outline of the day's events, and Hermione was able to push Draco slightly further back in her mind as she focussed on a meeting with some members of the Department of Magical Transportation. Apparently they had worries about regulating freed House Elves and their powers of Apparition.

This annoyed Hermione slightly, as they seemed to fundamentally misunderstand House Elf powers - the ability to Apparate into places such as Hogwarts was only under _orders_ from an elf's owner, not from their free will. But she agreed to go and spend a couple of hours discussing the issue and explaining to the Department that they were not going to have to deal with House Elves popping up all over the place - at least no more than they did from elves following masters' orders.

The Department for Magical Transportation was a notoriously dull place filled with very pedantic and rigid witches and wizards - as shown by Percy Weasley's recent tenure as an assistant to the Head of Department. He'd moved on to the Minister's Office now, but for two years he'd been almost as bad as when he was working for Barty Crouch.

She was greeted by none other than Marietta Edgecombe, and the two of them had a very strained conversation as Marietta showed Hermione through to where the meeting was taking place. The pimples had faded over time, with numerous efforts by Healers, although the odd bumps and lines were still just about visible beneath the thick layer of makeup she wore.

'In here,' said Marietta stiffly, before striding off down the corridor. Hermione stepped in to see a woman who looked very like Marietta, albeit thirty years older and without the pimple marks, and she quickly realised that the meeting might be harder than she thought. Marietta certainly seemed to have told her mother the whole story about the DA and the jinxed signatures and the resulting pimples, as the woman stared very coldly at her as she sat down.

'Welcome, Miss Granger!' wheezed an old man opposite her. It was the Head of Department, Mothe. His thinning white hair was combed to cover a large bald patch on his head, although the liver spotted skin still showed through. He peered through his glasses at her. 'Now, we have invited you here today to discuss some pressing issues we have with your current bill for House Elf rights. You see, now, the thing _is_ …'

As Hermione had suspected, the meeting dragged on, and on, and on, beyond the two hours scheduled and well into her lunch break. When three hours had passed, she decided to throw her cards down and force the issue. Knowing the department, it would last forever otherwise.

'With all due respect,' she said, keeping her voice perfectly polite, 'I think that we have said all there is to be said here. I have told you everything I know and think, and I believe we have made a fair deal regarding regulations of House Elves - that all have to pass an Apparition Test, like witches and wizards, and thus be documented and authorised. May I ask for you to decide whether to consent to the bill?'

When new legislation was passed which amended the constitutional laws, each Ministry Department had to agree to give their consent, and that was before it even reached the Wizengamot to be voted on. The six leading members of the department looked around at each other.

'I will write down the results,' wheezed old Mothe, unrolling a new scroll of parchment and dipping his quill into the inkpot. 'I say aye. Bollinger?'

'Aye,' intoned the heavy, moon-faced man to Hermione's left. She smiled at him. In the end, only Mrs Edgecombe and a nasal man called Reed opposed the legislation. Feeling thoroughly exhausted with the morning's proceedings, Hermione stood up and shook hands with them all, even Mrs Edgecombe who dug her nails into Hermione's skin as she did.

Padma, Valerie and Thomas were sat gabbing over their lunch in the office, and looked around expectantly when Hermione walked in. She paused before saying anything, dropping into her chair to rest her feet. 'They've agreed to consent to the bill,' she said, holding up the scroll with the names and Mothe's signature. All three of them cheered - that meant they only had to get it through the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and the Department of Magical Games and Sports, all of whom hopefully had so little to do with House Elf rights that they'd let it slide through quite quickly. Hermione just had to agree with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes that House Elves would follow the same regulations as witches and wizards if they caused any disturbances under their own free will. Harry had already aided the bill getting through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

She went through a few bits of paperwork, but decided to leave work early in celebration of the success in the Department of Magical Transportation. Hopefully Draco would be home by then from whatever he rushed off to do in the morning, and they could celebrate together. At the thought of him she was buoyed up considerably, and several Ministry workers looked around askance as she walked past them with a broad smile, waving and calling out a cheery "Hello!' All of a sudden, she was desperate to see Draco again, for him to envelope her in his arms and kiss her, for them to lie together again …

But when she stepped out the fireplaces a few minutes later, the apartment was as silent and empty as when she left it. Her heart weighed down in her chest, she called out: 'Draco?' But no answer came. Feeling rather put-down by this turn of events, she nevertheless told herself that whatever he'd had to do in the morning was probably making him late, and she was early anyway - it wasn't even four thirty yet.

To while away the time, she decided to go visit Ginny. The Quidditch League tournament was due to start in April, but Ginny had a few days of training as half the team had come down with a bad bout of Ghoul Flu. Hermione braved the February weather and strode around the corner to see her friend, who she found being fed cookies by Kreacher.

'Hello Hermione!' called Ginny through a mouthful of cookie, while Kreacher pulled another batch out the oven. The elf had decided that Ginny needed feeding up before the strenuous Quidditch season and was baking and cooking constantly, something that neither Harry nor Ginny had attempted to stop.

'Hello, Ginny,' said Hermione, smiling at Kreacher as he handed her a large, steaming mug of tea. She dropped into the seat opposite her friend, picking up a chocolate chip cookie from the plate on the table. It was delicious - crispy on the outside, chewy centre, the balance of dough and chocolate perfect.

'So what's the deal?' asked Ginny, as Kreacher placed the batch of cookies on a rack to dry and bustled out the room. 'You hardly ever leave work before five unless something's wrong, and you're sat here at my kitchen table at a quarter to. So, what's up?'

Hermione smiled. Her friend never failed to be excellently upfront and direct, never batting about the broomstick when she could be asking a question straight up. She decided to follow her lead and jump straight in. 'So Draco and I had sex again last night.'

Ginny spat out her cookie across the table, but to Hermione's surprise she didn't shriek in surprise, but crowed triumphantly and clapped her hands. 'Yes! That's ten Sickles Harry owes me!'

'What?'

'Oh, right,' said Ginny, looking a little abashed now. 'Harry and I made a bet, last month when he found out who knocked you up. After he'd calmed down a bit and stopped being a dick, he said that at least you and Draco were friends. And _I_ said that I didn't think you'd be friends for long, especially as you were now living together. I mean, come on, I may be completely in love with Harry but I can still see that Draco has turned into a hot piece of arse since Hogwarts, and with you two living alone together and having a baby and all, it was bound to happen. Especially as it had already happened once. Anyway, Harry disagreed, so we made a bet.'

Hermione wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or amused by this, so she decided to skate over it. 'Yes, well, we had sex again -'

'Merlin, Hermione, you're so formal,' said Ginny, laughing now. 'I just noticed, you never say shagged or hooked up or banged, or anything else like that. I mean, before it was you and Ron, and I _never_ want to think about that, so we didn't talk about it. But now, I mean I almost expect you to say something awful like "intercourse" or "made love".'

'Yes _anyway_ ,' interrupted Hermione as Ginny smirked, 'I'm trying to actually tell you something here.'

'Sorry. Go on about your intercourse.'

'Well,' said Hermione, trying not to blush now, 'it was different from last years. Not in a bad way!' She added quickly, as Ginny raised her eyebrows. 'No, it's just … well the first time, it was mainly … mainly …'

'Lust?' said Ginny in a dramatic voice, waggling her eyebrows.

'Yes,' said Hermione. 'But last night it felt … I mean there was still the lust, one hundred percent still, but it felt like there was something else, too. More than just attraction.'

'You actually felt something for him?' asked Ginny, looking interested and serious now. Hermione nodded. 'That's great! You two can go off and have more fabulous sex and raise the kid together. I'm sure he feels the same.'

'But that's the thing,' said Hermione, frowning. 'I don't know if he does. He didn't say anything, before, during, or after. And this morning when I woke up, he'd disappeared. I'm guessing he had work or something, but he's still not back, and I can't help feeling worried that for him it was still just … just a straight-up shag, to use your common terminology.'

Ginny smiled, kind now, and suddenly she reminded Hermione very much of Mrs Weasley whenever she comforted her. It made her miss the Weasleys more than ever, and as she looked at Ginny she felt a thought spring into mind …

'Hermione,' said Ginny placatingly, 'you're worrying over nothing. Anyone can see that Draco is into you, and you said yourself - he's probably just had some meeting that he's had to go to, and he didn't want to wake you this morning. He'll be back soon, and then you two can talk about this properly.'

'Right,' said Hermione, nodding slowly, trying not to worry. She'd told herself the very same thing, numerous times that day, but the worry kept creeping insidiously in.

As the city's light turned the night sky a dull purple tinged with orange, Hermione left to walk back to the apartment, and she saw immediately as she turned into the cul-de-sac that the windows were dark. Suddenly noticing to the cold more than ever, she pulled her coat closer around herself and hurried towards the house.

In the hallway a young woman was wrestling with an infant, which for some reason was screaming at the top of its voice, flailing in her arms as she tried desperately not to drop it. The woman turned towards the stairs, spotting Hermione watching her as she did. 'What do _you_ want?' snapped the woman, as the child wailed even louder. Hermione stared at her, frozen, and then broke and ran for her front door, fumbling with the lock as she hurried to get herself inside.

Slamming the door behind her, she leant against it, gasping for breath. She felt her throat close up, and held her hands over her face, wiping away the tears that stung her eyes. The apartment was dark and cold, and when she pointed her wand at the grate the wood only glowed feebly and started to smoke.

Taking a deep breath, she focussed a little more, and flames burst into life. The flickering light, casting long shadows across the room, reminded her of the first time she and Draco had sex, when they conceived the baby.

He had not come home, and it was past seven. For a while, she stared in a reverie at the flames in the grate, and then she turned and went slowly through to the kitchen, her steps heavy. She knew Draco would leave a note if he went out this long. Trying not to believe the worst, she flicked on the kettle and sat down at the breakfast bar.

A tapping on the window made her jump almost off her seat. A handsome barn owl was clinging to the windowsill, buffeted by the wind. Hermione had hardly slid the window open before it rushed inside with a wild shaking of winds and a rather indignant hoot, as if it was Hermione's fault that it'd had to go out in the cold wind.

The letter was a tight scroll attached to the owl's leg. The bird was well trained, at least, standing still and meek as she slid the parchment out the little bind on its leg. The parchment was a thin strip, hardly two inches wide, and she realised that the neat calligraphy was Draco's handwriting.

 _Hermione_ , she read _, I'm sorry. After last night, I don't think it's right for me to be in your life or the baby's life. You will do better without me there. I'll support you financially, of course. You can stay in the apartment for as long as you like. Draco._

She balled up the parchment until it was a tiny hard ball between her fingers, and then she squinted at the owl. Where had it come from? Ignoring its protests, she picked it up and inspected it. Hired owls usually had some sort of marking of the company they came from, but this owl had none. Oddly, she thought that she recognised it, but she couldn't place where.

As she stared at the owl, and it looked blithely about the kitchen, she looked over at the fridge and thought dully how she supposed she should probably start on dinner. And then it hit her, where she had seen the owl. She, Ginny, and Harry had gone for a meal at the Leaky Cauldron last week, and the owl had been on its perch opposite her the entire time!

She was almost in the fire before she remembered about the owl, still hopping about on the kitchen counter. Sighing, she walked back and opened the window for it.

She should've guessed that Draco would be in the Leaky Cauldron, the classic halfway house for those running away from something. Her from Ron, and now Draco from her. She was glad that, being a Monday night, there were only half a dozen people sat in the main room of the inn. It wasn't the moment to deal with being famous.

Hannah Abbott was serving at the bar, and smiled cheerfully at Hermione when she walked up. 'Hello, Hermione! Back again?'

'Hello Hannah,' said Hermione, a little stiff. She wasn't in the mood for small talk. 'You've leant a room to Draco Malfoy, haven't you?'

Hannah frowned. 'Hermione, it's our policy that we don't tell if or where someone is staying, unless it's a family member.'

'Well Draco is the father of my child, is that close enough for you?' snapped Hermione sharply, and she felt a little guilty as Hannah reddened.

'Upstairs, third door on the left.'

The first floor was dimly lit, and she could hear muffled sounds from inside rooms as she walked past doors. For a horrible moment, she feared that she was going to hear Draco in his room with another woman. She didn't know how she'd deal with that again. But when she paused outside his door, all was silent.

Her hand reached for the doorknob first, ready to barge in, but she changed her mind and decided to give him the common courtesy of knocking.

She had to admit, as the door swung open, that he looked a mess. He seemed to have dressed in a hurry, and his hair wasn't even combed. They stared at each other, at a loss for how to start.

'How did you find me?' he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

'I recognised the owl,' Hermione said shortly, stepping past him into the room. It was lit only by a single candle on the desk, and burning embers in the fireplace. One of the inn's smaller rooms, the furnishings were simple but comfortable. She sat down on the bed, letting Draco take the chair.

'I guess you just got my owl, then,' said Draco. 'As I said, I'm not going to stop helping support you or the baby, I just won't -'

'Oh shut up Draco!' snapped Hermione, and he looked up at her, clearly shocked. 'Don't start like that!'

'What - what do you mean?'

'What do I mean? What do _I_ mean? You send me a letter, saying that you're just going to leave me, that it's for _my_ best interest, and you think that I'll take issue with the financial side of things? Merlin, Draco, sometimes I think you've got less sense than a drunk Ron Weasley!'

Draco was still staring at her, wide-eyed. 'I just thought … we were too close … my reputation … better for you, and the child …' He was stammering now, stumbling over words.

'We've talked about this, Draco! When are you going to get it into your head, _I don't care_! I don't care what you did in the past, what you were like, I understand that you've changed and I want you in my life! And our child - do you think I don't want it to have a father? And why now, why _now_ do you decide to walk out on things? I gave you a choice a month ago, that you could walk away then with no repercussions, if you had these issues why didn't you go then? Why let me get my hopes up, let me think that I won't have to raise this child alone?'

'But, Hermione, I thought it would be alright, I thought we'd just stay friends, no more than that, but then after last night, I just … I lay awake for hours, _thinking_ about it. You don't deserve to have someone like me, you should have someone better.'

'I don't _want_ anyone else!' cried Hermione, tears springing into her eyes now. 'Don't you understand, Draco? Last night, for the first time, I realised that I don't just want to be friends with you! I want you, I want us, and then you just go and walk out on me!'

She was sobbing now, and with a squeaking of bedsprings Draco sprang across the room to sit beside her. She leant towards him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest as she shook. He felt warm, and solid, and she felt herself calm as he held her.

'Alright,' he said, his voice low and soothing. 'I'm sorry, Hermione.'

Pulling away from him a little, she looked up at him with a tear-streaked face. 'You're such an _idiot_ , Draco. Promise me you'll never do this again. I don't care if you think you're being noble, never do this to me again!'

'I promise,' he said softly. He brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, and then cupped her face. He bent and they kissed, gently, their lips caressing. Hermione found herself suddenly filled with desire and grabbed the front of his robes, pulling him closer as they kissed. She felt his own lips become more forceful, his hands finding her waist, and she swung a leg over to straddle his lap.

He attacked the soft skin of her neck, kissing the crook between her jaw and throat until she moaned. As she shifted on his lap, unthinking, she felt him tense and then harden between her legs, and she giggled a little, tangling her hands in his hair.

Sliding back on the bed to get a firmer position, Draco's hands moved to the front of her robes, his fingers deftly pulling loose the ties and then pushing the material back to leave her topless. He kissed her breasts, which had started to swell from the pregnancy and spilled out of the cups of the blue lace bra. He unclipped it in a second, throwing it to the floor and reaching up to hold the breasts, massaging them and playing with the nipples between thumb and forefinger until they ached.

They were pressed together, but they managed to pull their robes off their bodies, letting them pool beneath them as Hermione rubbed against Draco, his boxers tented beneath her. Their movements became hurried down, Draco ripping Hermione's knickers in his haste to pull them off her, and Hermione pushing Draco's boxers to his knees before slowly lowering herself down onto him.


End file.
